


Flipping the Coin

by MoonFox



Series: Coins Saga [2]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Fantasy, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFox/pseuds/MoonFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Two Sides of the Coin.   After realizing Merlin's magic, Arthur sends Merlin and Gwaine on a quest of discovery to find out more about the history of Camelot that Uther tried to erase.  They end up discovering more about themselves then they ever imagined.   Destiny and Prophecy come together in a battle of swords magic and dragon fire leading to a revelation about an old enemy and the decision of one knight could change the path of fate.   AU Post 5.04 Merlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on fanfiction.net under Moon Fox and theHeartofCamelot.com as MoonFox.
> 
> I love the Arthurian Legends and try to incorporate those myths with the Merlin TV show universe. Thank you, Nance for your wonderful editing assistance and caldera32 for the cover art for the series.  
> Any remaining errors are my own.  
> I don't own Merlin or the myths I use.

**It** was well into the night when the four men finally settled into a table near the back of the rogue’s favorite pub. The woman at the bar was just about ready to close up when they wandered in. Elyan tipped her a couple of gold crowns to stay open and serve them so close to morning. The round woman pushed away her exhaustion, plastering a smile on her face, streaked with soot and dirt, and bid them welcome. Nearly every sane man or woman in the citadel were sound asleep at this hour, but most of Camelot would be hard-pressed to call these four Knights sane at any time of day. They were known throughout the kingdom as the most trusted of King Arthur’s men.

The barkeep fought with a greasy strand of mouse-brown hair that refused to stay under her head scarf. After a few moments she gave up trying to look presentable and let it hang limp across her left eye. She gathered some tankards and a couple of growlers of ale. Setting them on the table in front of the men, she assessed them briefly, her eyes coming to rest on Gwaine. When the man first came to Camelot he was nothing but trouble, packaged in a handsome form barely a woman could refuse. The Tavern girls always flocked to him, uncaring about the fact he had no money. The gambling men would do what they could to win a few coins, which he rarely had at that time, from him simply because he was a good amount of fun. Now that he was a knight, he had coins in his pocket – most of the time, although if he survived an evening long enough with the gambling, he usually passed out drunk before remembering to pay.

Leon sat quietly in the corner, his back to the wall. Covered in grime, sweat, and who knows what else, he was careful not to lean against it. Gray-blue eyes stared somberly towards the door, not really seeing anything in particular, his thoughts turned inward, heavy from the revelations at the meeting. He felt so much inner turmoil. He knew Merlin – the loyal idiot who stood up to a teenage bully before, and even after, realizing it was the crowned prince of Camelot. The boy always seemed to be full of surprises, and now the elder Knight understood why. Logically Leon knew the man he saw rise up to face Arthur in the small council chamber was the same boy who followed them around like a lost puppy for so many years, but the difference in the presence he commanded was so dramatic it confused the knight.

“Sir Percival – tell us your tale!” Gwaine raised his tankard to the large man.

The large man, his arms bear under the armor and cloak, took a sip of his ale and seemed to study the many scratches and gouges that graced the table in front of him. “I’ll see if I can remember it all,” he began. Lifting the cup to his lips, he downed a good portion of its contents and then began to tell the others of the druid legend he learned growing up.

“Centuries ago, before the Romans came to this part of the world the land was said to be united under one rule – a partnership of two men. The first is referred to as the ‘Once and Future King of Albion’ the other is called Emrys who was the leader of the druids and ambassador for the Old Religion.”

“If the ‘Old Religion’ was old centuries ago, how long ago was it new?” Elyan contemplated, not realizing he had spoken out loud until he noticed the others regarding him quizzically, “Sorry, I’ll shut up and let you continue.”

Leon chuckled and seemed to be coming back to his normal self finally, “You realize you ask more odd questions about things than my five year old nephew.” The dark skinned knight refilled his tankard and took a long draw off it, managing to look chastised. “Go on, Percival, we’re listening.”

“They were said to be ‘two sides of the same coin’ as was mentioned earlier. Some of the druids said the word Emrys means immortal, other referred to it as the man’s name suspecting that it was the northerner’s version of Ambrosias – it really varied from camp to camp. It was said he could control dragons and all other manner of mythical beasts, the elements bowed to him, and he in turn bowed to the Great King. To say which one had the most power, all you need do was flip a coin.”

“And someday, when the land was torn asunder by war, the two men would be reborn and the Old Religion would become new again and all of Albion would be united once more,” A new voice chimed in.

“Mordred! Where did you come from?” Gwaine piped with a suspicious smile. The men were so engrossed in Percival’s tale they hadn’t paid any mind to the door. “Come join us, have some ale!”

“You know the legend?” Percival asked the newest of Arthur’s knights.

“I would love to Gwaine, however I just happened by on my rounds with the guard and noticed the light still burning inside here. So, I wanted to make sure nothing was amiss. And to answer your question, yes I do know it. My father was a druid until he was put to death by Uther.” His voice took on a hint of bitterness at the memory.

Leon drew a breath, “I remember, I’m sorry for that my friend.”

“Thank you, Sir Leon.” Mordred gave a slight smile before he glanced around at the four Knights, confusion etching his young face, “So, may I ask why you all are here in the tavern telling old druid legends and drinking when it’s almost dawn?”

The four glanced silently at each other, looking like guilty children more than Knights of Camelot. “No reason really, just bored and couldn’t sleep.” Gwaine said, trying to sound innocent as he poured a third tankard of ale.

The young knight’s eyebrows rose skeptically, “All four of you?”

“Yes, all four of us,” Leon’s tone held the air of authority over the newest recruit. “Perhaps you should best continue with your rounds of the city.”

Mordred stiffened and bowed sharply to the Knight Commander, “Of course, Sir. Good night, or morning, Sirs.” He backed away a few steps before turning for the door. He bade the lady barkeep a good night as well before he stepped out into the street. Mordred paused outside, inhaling sharply the moist pre-dawn air, his mind racing. There was no reason he could determine for those men to be gathered at such a time discussing what would amount to children’s stories in Camelot. No reason, unless something earlier in the night had changed. His mouth formed a small grin; he could guess what that something was. He lifted his eyes to the castle towers. “Well done, Emrys,” he whispered coldly into the gathering sunrise.

A new day was dawning in Camelot and the future of the greatest kingdom in history rode with it on the horizon…


	2. penmanship

Birds chirped and sung out their songs welcoming the morning.  Slowly the Kingdom of Camelot awoke, to most the day was like any other.   Roosters crowed, eager to be released from their nightly confinement in the hen houses, pigs rooted and squealed in their pens, horses nickered and whinnied as they called out for morning feed from the stalls.  Servants rushed about, starting fires and preparing breakfast trays for the nobles in the castle while merchants and shop keepers prepared their goods for display in the marketplace.   Sunlight gleamed off the dew ridden towers of the main castle, bright and shinning, promising a beautiful day for the citizens of Camelot.

In a high tower, candles burned low.  The wax dripping to the floor, cascading in ribbons as they cooled and hardened.   A blond man, tired and aching from a night spent listening to stories, squinted as the rays of the sun fell through a window onto his face.    His stomach grumbled loudly reminding him that his body needed sustenance.  “Well, I suppose you’re not going to bring me my breakfast today.”  He stated with a hint of sarcasm looking towards his companion.

“No,” the other said wearily, “I don’t suppose I am.”

“I swear, Merlin, you are the WORST servant I have ever known.”  The King chuckled, stretching his arms above his head with a groan.  “I must admit, I have no idea how to proceed with all this.  You just enjoy making my life a living hell, don’t you?”

Merlin chuckled softly, arching his neck to try and work out the kinks and knots formed from a tense night of heavy conversation.  “What does your heart tell you to do, Sire?”

As if in reply the king’s stomach growled louder, “well first off to find…George I guess, and have him bring us both something to eat.”

“Then you should follow your heart,” Merlin quipped eagerly, feeling the pangs of hunger himself, “As I have said many times.”

  
“Don’t remind me.  You are like an old nagging woman sometimes, do you realize that? You remind me of a nurse-maid I had when I was a boy. She didn’t last long in my father’s employment. ‘Do this; don’t do that, on and on.”  Arthur looked at the warlock with a serious expression as they prepared to exit the room, “I get the feeling you haven’t even told me half of what I’ve missed seeing the past few years.”

Merlin shook his head appearing slightly ashamed, “No, I haven’t and I don’t think you want to know it all either.”

The King considered arguing but then simply nodded, “You’re probably right.  Just try to be honest with me from here on out and tell me things as they are needed.”

The blue eyed warlock assessed his companion before nodding. As a very rarely seen gesture of respect he offered a sincere bow to Arthur, “As you wish, Sire.”

(*~*~*~*~*)

“Merlin.”

“Arthur.”

The King sighed, biting his bottom lip in frustration.  His hands placed flat on the table in front of him forcing them down so he wouldn’t contract into fists. “What are you doing?”

Merlin looked himself over, “uh… standing.” He had automatically taken up his usual spot just behind and to the left of the King.  After so many years, it was an ingrained habit, more than a conscious decision.

 The small council from the night before sat around a larger table now set in the dining hall.  Arthur had summoned them once again to continue the discussion.  They were joined by the court genealogist and record keeper, Geoffrey of Monmouth who appeared lost about his place among the council, and completely unaware of the previous evening’s conversation.

“I can see that.” The king stated impatiently, “Get over here and sit down, NOW!”

“Yes, Sire.”  Merlin pursed his lips, laughter sparkling in his eyes.   He obeyed the king and found himself a seat further down the table, although the one just to the right of Arthur was open.

“Merlin, here.”  Arthur ordered, pointing to the closer chair. The warlock bit back a retort and changed seats.   No sooner had he settled in than a hand smacked across the back of his head.   

“Ow, and you wonder why no one wants to sit next to you.”  Merlin grumbled softly, garnering a thinly veiled snicker from the Queen across the table from him.

The scholar, rolled his eyes, annoyed at the brotherly bickering between the King and his servant, his confusion evident on his face as to why the servant was seated at the right hand of the king. He cleared his throat, obviously displeased at being taken away from his books, “Sire, I am honored you asked me to join you however,” Geoffrey looked around those gathered, “I am a bit mystified of your motives.”

“Ah yes, I spoke with you earlier this month about some of the historical texts prior to the Great Purge.  You informed me that much of it, including pages of my own family history, are missing.”

Geoffrey looked at Arthur suspiciously, “That is correct, Sire.  You’re father felt it best that anything pertaining to, or even hinting at magic, should be eradicated. May I ask why you are taking this sudden interest, Sire?”

Arthur sat back and took a deep breath, unsure of how his father’s librarian would react to his request.  He silently reminded himself to keep it simple, “Since my father’s death I have been trying to work on remedying a few things.  I feel now that learning what I can from history, even parts that he tried to erase, could be beneficial for moving forward and understanding his motives, especially where magic is concerned.”

“I see,” Geoffrey glanced over to Gaius.  The old physician nodded in encouragement.  They two were alone in understanding the thoroughness Uther had gone through to rid himself of anything unwanted. “Well in that case, I believe I can be of assistance.   In the library there is a section your father restricted to all eyes but his own and mine.  However, when it comes to the missing pieces of your family’s past, much of that was destroyed.”

Arthur nodded, with all that had taken place the King yearned to understand the bitterness of Uther, which seemed to go deep beyond the death of Ygraine. “Is there any place we could find this information available?”

The old man sat in thought for a few minutes before a hopeful light crept into his eyes, “Yes, Sire, I believe there might be.   Far to the north at the top of the Llyn Peninsula is a monastery with someone who possibly could be of assistance.  But sadly, I am too old to make such a journey, and have no apprentice I could send.”

“You don’t mean to suggest?” Gaius let the question hang between them.

Geoffrey shrugged, “It is possible.”

“But he would be so old by now. I seriously doubt if the man is still alive.”

“Whom are you referring to, Gaius?”  Arthur asked intrigued.

The physician sighed heavily, “Well it would be your uncle.  Your father’s brother, but he was nearly thirty years older than Uther and had already taken the vows of monkhood before your father was born.  I would wager that IF he still lived, the man would be close to seeing a full century.”

“Ah!” Geoffrey lit up, “he may have passed down his knowledge to someone, or being a learned man, may have written it himself.”

“My uncle? I was told King Aurelianus Ambrosius died of an illness when my father was about nineteen.  Are you saying he might still be alive?”  Arthur’s gaze went between the two men.

“No, Sire.  Ambrosius was the middle brother; I am speaking of the eldest brother Constans.  It was said he didn’t agree with their father’s methods and so dedicated himself to the Holy Order as a priest of the New Religion before his father could name him heir.  I don’t believe Uther ever met the man.”  Gaius tapped his fingers lightly on the table in contemplation.  His lids veiled as he thought.  Merlin could feel more than see when his mentor stared at him, obviously coming to some conclusion.

“I met him once,” Geoffrey offered, “When I was younger than you are now, briefly with the man I was apprenticed to. Sadly, I do not remember much from so long ago.”

“Very well,” Arthur said, coming to a decision. “Merlin, I would like you to speak with Geoffrey and find out where this place is.  You and Gwaine will set out in the morning.”

“We would be passing through Essetir and Lothian lands to get to the peninsula,” Gwaine cautioned.   Merlin could hear the tightness in his friend’s voice as he spoke his concern.

“I understand.  That is why I am only sending the two of you.  You for protection and Merlin, because despite his shortcomings, has the best handwriting of us all.”


	3. Gwaine's a what?

“Any idea what you think we’ll find up there?”  Merlin chattered on as he gathered supplies for the journey.  He already had the map supplied by Geoffrey tucked safely away.  “I can’t believe that just yesterday I was just a servant and today Arthur is trusting me enough to send me, ME!” he exclaimed.

“It’s not like you haven’t undertaken things on your own before.” The old man reminded him.

“But this time it’s different!”  Merlin continued to prattle on enthusiastically, his mood hadn’t been this upbeat in years.

Gaius sat at the table, allowing his thoughts to wander.  After the discussion with the scholar, Arthur sent Merlin to accompany the man back to the library to prepare.  He kept everyone else in the hall for more discussion.

_The door closed behind the two men leaving the rest of the small council in silent contemplation._

_“Arthur, this is all well and good, but what do you plan to do about… you know, what was discovered last night?”  Guinevere asked softly, laying a hand on her husband’s arm. “Do you really think sending Merlin away right now is the best idea?”_

_The King shrugged and looked at the others, “I want to change the way some things have been handled in the past. I fear that if he is around it would cause more turmoil among those who may not be ready.”_

_“So you’re sending him and Gwaine on this journey to keep Merlin safe.” Elyan concluded._

_“Partly, yes.”_

_Leon squirmed slightly in his seat, Arthur looked at him questioningly. “Sire, I have sworn an oath to obey you and protect you.  I have to admit, though, I don’t care for this talk of change.”_

_Gwaine spoke up, his eyebrows knitted in a frown, “Weren’t you saved by the druids? You’ve seen firsthand the good magic can do.”_

_“I also remember what came after, and I would gladly have given my life to save those that perished under Morgana’s hand when she possessed the Cup of Life.”_

_“And that is why I need to send Merlin away right now. To give the people of Camelot, and myself, time to adjust without the possibility that I am harboring a magic user in my own castle. The people will be looking for someone to blame in all this.” He admitted reluctantly. Despite the revelations of the previous evening, the King harbored doubts of his own._

_“But what of Morgana, Sire?”  Percival asked._

_“We will just have to hope she was too injured, or dead, in the collapse of the tomb to do anything for the moment.”  The argument waged on internally for the King, wondering if he was doing the right thing by sending the man, who he now knew was his greatest asset in the battle for the throne, so far away. In essence he felt like he was banishing the man for a time without using the actual word.  He could see the political implications of either choice.  “The coming months will be difficult for all of us. I see now, with new eyes, the great kingdom you will all help to build, but first we need to understand the foundation of what has come before.”_

“Merlin,” Gaius finally spoke, “come sit with me a moment.”

The warlock ceased his rambling tongue and excited packing, plopping himself on the stool beside his mentor.  He looked with anticipation at the physician.

“I know I don’t have to tell you to be careful, or how worried I will be for you,” his rheumy eyes warily assessing his ward. “I have a feeling you are going to find more on this quest about yourself than about you can imagine.   Now that others know of your secret it is no reason to put yourself out there more than need be.”

Merlin’s broad smile faded, “What do you mean?  Gaius, I get the feeling you know something you’re not telling me.”  He studied his mentors face, trying to patiently wait for the old man to speak.

Gaius sighed and changed the direction of the conversation, “The area you will be traveling, I recall hearing your father speak of it once.  If memory serves me he was at the battle with King Ambrosius against a man named Vortigern, who sought the throne for himself after Constantus died.  I fear, I can’t remember more than that; however I have a feeling you might be able to discover something more about Balinor, as well as the royal history, now that you know to look.”

His blue eyes gazed off, his mind processing the information.  He licked his lips, “Thank you, Gaius. Hopefully I will.  I’d like to know more about Balinor if I can.”

The next morning, just after sunrise, found Gwaine and Merlin already outside the gates and on the road to their newest adventure.  From the walls, the eyes of a young knight watched them go.  He overheard one of the stable boys speaking about how a Knight and the King’s servant were heading off to the north on a mission for the King.   Mordred couldn’t have hoped for a better opportunity.

(*~*~*~*)

“Tell me again, why I should trust you, Mordred.”

“Because you need the information I hold.”

“You put a blade through my back!”  The dark witch all but screamed at the young man, her once startling pale green eyes now gray from the years of insanity, shooting daggers, her feet pacing the room frantically, and madness oozing from every pore.

Mordred sighed, his eyes following her back and forth, “If I had meant to kill you Morgana, I would have.  It was my only option to keep you safe from Arthur’s men and from _Emrys_.” His purposeful dropping of the name received the result the druid was hoping for.

Morgana froze, eyes narrowing, “Emrys was there?”  A shrill inhuman screech escaped the witch’s throat.

“He is the one who thwarts you at every turn, Morgana.  You will never have a chance to sit upon Camelot’s throne while he remains alive.”  The young knight chose his words carefully.   He owed Arthur his life, and had no reason to see the King of Camelot usurped – Emrys on the other hand, Mordred owed him nothing but death and pain for his betrayal of the druids the young man had called family.  “I have information that he is traveling north to the Llyn Pennisula on a mission for Arthur.”

“So he isn’t around to protect my precious brother?”  Her eyes widened excitedly.

Mordred’s thoughts raced as he backtracked through his words trying to manipulate the witch onto the path he wanted, “He has great magic, Morgana.  Any attack against your brother and he would be back quicker than you could imagine!”   He lied, thankful for her madness in that never once during their conversation had she thought to ask how he knew Emrys or who the man really was.

Her frantic pacing started again, slender pale hands wringing nervously, “You’re right, of course you are.  I must go to Lot at once and let him know some of my brother’s lapdogs are crossing his land without permission.”

The druid barely hid a smile as his plan was set in motion.  Soon he expected he would be forever rid of Emrys, and he hoped the Warlock would take the witch with him, and if Emrys didn’t, Mordred was confident he would catch up to her later.

(*~*~*~*)

The wood snapped and popped in the campfire as the pitched wept out of it.  Shadows danced on the ground casting random light up into the tree branches that swayed gently in the nightly breeze. Gwaine looked around, clearly uneasy.  After four days on the road the two friends crossed the border into Lot’s kingdom.  They knew they had to take care, since Lot was no ally to Camelot, power hungry and ruthless he had claimed most of Essetir as his own as well in the wake of Cenred’s death.  It still didn’t explain the level of nervousness Merlin felt coming off his companion.  They sat in silence for a while just watching the flames.  Finally the warlock couldn’t take it any longer.

“Alright, so what’s wrong?”  He asked bluntly.  He saw Gwaine’s roguish mask slip back into place.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would you ask?” an impish grin gracing his features.

Merlin sighed and stirred the fire a bit, “Because I know you my friend and you are NEVER this quiet, unless it means you’re passed out drunk.”

Gwaine looked to argue, but instead picked up a rock tossing it out into the darkness, allowing his frustrations to break through, “I know I told you about being a noble, well this is where I’m from.”

“I see,” Merlin stated quietly.  He could sense there was more to the story, but he allowed the knight of Camelot his space in the matter.  They fell back into silence for a while longer, “So, do we want to try and cut through the kingdom, or add at least a week as we make our way around?”

Suddenly another voice appeared from outside the firelight, “I think we’ll take you straight to the Castle, although it might add considerably more than a week to your journey.”

The two men stood up instantaneously, Gwaine’s sword already in his hand.  Merlin scrutinized the area, feeling for magic.  Neither had heard anyone approach, and now it appeared as if they were surrounded by men dressed in Lothian armor pointing crossbows at them.   Merlin knew he could send out a force wave to knock them all back, but he worried he might catch his friend with it too.  Not knowing how many troops were in the trees concerned him as well.

“Put down your sword Prince Gwaine, your grandfather wishes an audience with you.”  A rugged looking man stepped out of the shadows.  Gwaine threw his sword to the ground wincing in defeat.

“So be it then.”


	4. Listening is an acquired skill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur starts listening to those around him.

The king stood at his window letting the warm air wash over him. He allowed his mind to wander back through the past few days since Merlin revealed the truth about himself.  So far the others had kept their word to say nothing about what they witnessed with Merlin’s outburst to anyone outside the room, so it took him by surprise when he overheard two men discussing magic in hushed tones.  

_All the knights were exhausted after a good day of training and most had already passed through the armory to return the practice swords and armor.   Arthur had stayed behind on the practice field a while after the rest were dismissed so when he reached the door he expected to find no one there.   He briefly thought of summoning George, or one of the other servants to assist him, but in the end decided he didn’t want to listen to their prattling on about how great he was.   He begun to dearly miss Merlin’s straightforward and, albeit sometimes irritating, way of telling Arthur what he really thought._

_His hand barely touched the door when he heard the first whispers._

_“Why are you asking me this?”  He heard Mordred’s voice ask._

_“Because you have lived among magic users, and were working FOR Morgana when we found you this time.  All I want to know, is it possible?”  The other voice was one Arthur would recognize anywhere, that of Sir Leon._

_Arthur entertained the thought of barging in to demand an explanation but instead he bent down and peered through a knothole in the door.   Leon’s back was to the door and he sat on one of the benches in a place that offered the king only small glimpses of the younger knight’s face.  At one point he was sure Mordred had seen his eye spying on the conversation._

_“I suppose it is, but unless I have more details about why you need to know this, I’m not sure I can help you.”_

_Leon sat up straight, clearly at war with himself about the amount of information he might need to give. “Let’s just say ‘hypothetically’ for future reference, if there was a sorcerer in close position to someone in power could they be controlling that person, and how long would it take, or last, or something?”_

_Mordred was silent for a few seconds, “Manipulation is at the heart of nearly every magical art I know of.   I was merely a puppet to Alvarr when he made me play on Arthur’s feelings so he could steal from King Uther’s vault.  I was used by Morgana until I met up with Arthur again outside of Ismere.  So, yes it is possible, and the younger the person is when the influence begins, the harder it can be to break.”   The young knight stood up feigning a stretch and glanced over Leon’s shoulder briefly at the door._

_Arthur could have sworn he saw something sparkle in the boy’s eyes before turning back to Leon.  “I hope that sufficiently answers your question, Sir Leon.”_

_Leon nodded slowly, “Yes, it does help.  Thank you, Mordred.”_

_“May I ask, sir, has there been any word from Sir Gwaine and Merlin?”  Mordred asked carefully, putting a slight emphasis on the name of the warlock._

_“No there has not.  They are on a mission for the king, which you shouldn’t trouble yourself with.”  Leon said pointedly._

_Mordred nodded submissively at the rebuke, “I was simply curious, it has seemed so much more peaceful here without him.”_

_“You mean ‘them’?”  Leon questioned with a hint of suspicion._

_The boy smiled shyly, “Yes, of course.  But Sir Gwaine is a knight and always in and out on missions and patrols.  Merlin has been King Arthur’s_ servant _for a number of years now it seems, and is consistently voicing his opinion on matters that shouldn’t concern one of his station.”_

 _Mordred appeared nervous as he leaned in conspiratorially towards Leon “In fact, I thought for certain he was trying to convince Arthur to kill me when we first again in Ismere.”  He paused for a moment watching the reaction of the elder knight, “But it was probably just because I was under Morgana’s influence at the time.”_  
  
The king had heard enough, he quietly backtracked away from the armory, chiding himself for not revealing his position, he was king after all.  Leon’s questions to Mordred seemed innocent enough, yet something in the boy’s eyes and tone of voice put Arthur on edge.  He went to his quarters and summoned George to gather the armor, and then dismissed the servant quickly to be alone and ponder the conversation.

He felt Gwen come up behind him, linking her hand with his elbow.  “What is on your mind, my love?”

Arthur lied to his wife, “I have been perusing the ‘restricted’ section of the royal library for days now.  My eyes are burning from the dust and mildew kicked up into the air with each page I turned, and I don’t understand a smidgeon of what Geoffrey has tried to explain.  I just wish Merlin was here.  So I could have him deal with those records and parchments.”

Gwen chuckled softly, leaning her head onto her husband’s shoulder, “I think you’re finally realizing how much he does for you.  Although, you must have escaped it today- I did see you out on the practice field earlier.” She teased.

The king nodded and offered a guilty smile, “Perhaps I have taken for granted how much he puts up with me.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around Gwen.  “However, I am questioning if he has done too much.  Am I really my own man, Guinevere?  Or am I puppet that he has made with his magic?”

Gwen pulled back in shock and studied Arthur’s face, her brow pinched as she looked at her husband, “Who has suggested you were a puppet? Arthur, you know Merlin.  It is true that he kept a very serious matter from you, but he only did that to protect himself while still serving you as best he could, as he has always done.” She was wholly taken back by even the idea of it, “In speaking with Gaius about these matters, it seems many years ago, Merlin was told it was his destiny to walk at your side and protect you- not to control you. I doubt he would ever even consider trying to use you in any way. ” 

Gwen still remembered watching from the windows of the castle as a scrawny young upstart unknowingly challenged King Uther’s son, only to save him from the wrath of a sorcerous bent on revenge not two days later.  She now knew that was only the first time in many that Merlin would use his magic to save Arthur, for which she was now very thankful.  After all these years, Merlin could have manipulated him in so many ways, yet he still remained in the shadows of a kingdom where he could be punished by death, never once asking for anything for himself.

Arthur sucked in his lips holding his breath for a moment while he thought.  Finally he released it in a sigh, “You’re right, as always my love.”  He pulled her closer for a passionate kiss; somehow this woman always knew just what to say.  Yet, it didn’t stop the worry that perhaps someone else, now that Merlin was gone, was preparing to make a move.  

Later that night he lay in bed, Gwen sleeping soundly beside him.  He wondered about Mordred’s conversation with Leon.  Arthur truly wanted to believe the boy he saved years ago only wanted to serve him to the best of his ability.  Yet, after suffering so many betrayals, the king began pondering if that was truly the case. He thought back to how adamant Merlin had been against Mordred.  The boy initially brought the pair to Morgana and yet when the tables were turning with the release of the slaves, he quickly turned on her, obviously not finishing her off since she reappeared weeks later with Mithian.  Merlin had tried to warn Arthur about his sister, as well as his uncle, and many other instances where a newcomer to the city ended up causing all sorts of trouble.  Gwaine  joked he could make a drinking game out of the number of times that ‘for once’ was used by Arthur to describe good advice from Merlin. 

His mind went back to the night he finally recognized that Merlin was more than just a servant and friend. 

_"You are my closest friend. I trust your advice Merlin, always have."_

_"Well then maybe you should listen to it more often and quit acting like a prat so much of the time?"_

Perhaps it was time to stop acting the ‘prat’ and actually start listening.  To quit saying ‘for once’ and learn it was nearly every time, understanding that even with the advice - Merlin never forced him into a decision – he would sit back and let the king do his own thing and save Arthur’s ass when it proved wrong.  Definitely not something a person who wanted to control a kingdom would allow.  On the morrow Arthur was to meet with the nobles and councilmen of his late father, he knew it was going to be difficult, but the possibilities of change always were.  ‘Start slowly,’ he reminded himself.  He would also need to find a way to keep an extra eye on the boy Mordred, as Merlin had suggested.


	5. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine meets his grandfather and gets a lesson in his own history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Anon for the comment about proper forms of address. I'm a silly yank and have NO clue about it, so you don't realize how much I appreciate the feedback on it!

"The Prodigal grandson of my daughter's incestuous relationship returns. I heard you had become a Knight of my enemy. I see you have your father's gift of betrayal in you." King Lot stated evenly assessing his two prisoners.

The King's face was thin and pointed, gray hair cropped close to his skull on his head a crown encrusted with purple hued gems. He raised an eyebrow and stared down his long nose at his grandson. He held his goblet out to the side and a young maiden rushed to fill it. Lot didn't even look at her, Merlin bit his tongue knowing this was not the time or place to argue how he felt servants should be treated. The King sat comfortably on a large ornate throne covered in gold and purple velvet. The velvet embroidered in golden thread with a two-headed griffon, the symbol of King Lot. Behind, and to the left of Lot stood a man, perhaps ten years older than Gwaine, regally dressed in silks and shining armor engraved with the same symbol as the throne, one of the King's sons, watching the exchange with guarded eyes. His brown hair, short and manageable, thick brows rose and fell with his expressions, he had the same narrow face, pointed chin and nose as his father.

Merlin mentally noted the family resemblance to Gwaine as well, as he watched the scene play out. His eyes scanned the room as much as he dared, taking in all the details he could. It was obvious from the way Lot seemed not to pay him any mind, that the King dismissed Merlin as a simple servant to a knight, for now the warlock would let it stay that way.

Gwaine glared at Lot, clearly repulsed at even being in the same room with the man. His nostrils flared, "We were just passing through, let us go and we will be on our way. I want no claim to anything that is yours, if that is what you are concerned with."

Lot laughed, his dark eyes shadowing his amusement, "You have no claim- you are not my heir. Your mother saw to that. Then any hope you may have had at some inheritance ran away with you when I graciously tried to take you in after my sweet Teneu died.

"No, if I let you pass now you will come through on your way back home, possibly carrying with you knowledge of my troops and movements, albeit very limited information." The King of Lothian raised an eyebrow, deliberately baiting his grandson, "Next thing I know my roads will be crawling with Camelotians expecting to travel past and not pay any taxes for using my kingdom as a thoroughfare. I'll punish them, then you might persuade your young king to be courageous and valiant and try to set things right. By that time we'll have a full blown war. Not that I mind the joy a good battle brings me, but war will come soon enough even without your help. I just want to make sure war with Camelot, if it begins, is on my terms."

Gwaine knew the king was taunting him, and it worked well to infuriate the knight, he struggled against the chains on his wrists, though the guard at his back kept him in check. He glanced over at the warlock, who gave him an ever so slight shrug, letting Gwaine know that he would follow the knights lead.

Lot's sharp eyes didn't miss the exchange; he looked to the patrol commander that brought them in, "I was informed there were to be three men traveling from Camelot. Where pray-tell is the other one?" He asked, thinking he had figured out their secret.

"There was no sign of him, Your Majesty, only enough horses and supplies for these two." The patrol commander replied, taking a knee before his king as he answered.

The king rubbed his bottom lip in thought, "That is most unfortunate. No matter, take my grandson and his servant to a cell for now; make sure they are given food and water." With that, they were roughly hauled off to the dungeons.

(*~*~*~*)

Morgana felt a wave of disgust as the old king pulled her to him. She pushed away, not bothering to hide the look of contempt on her face, "What do you mean there were only the two of them? Where was the old man?" They were alone in the throne room, only Lot's personal guards stood at the door, ready if called upon, but otherwise blind to the King's forays. Mordred had spoken to her only of Gwaine and Emrys, when she found out the pesky Merlin had tagged along, she grew suspicious but she let it slide and assumed her brother sent him to cater to the old wizard.

Lot chuckled, "I'm so sorry to disappoint you my dear, but there was no old man with them as you described. Just my grandson and his servant," He sat back in his throne regally, sipping lightly on his jeweled goblet of wine.

The witch scowled, "Your grandson has no servant. That was Merlin, King Arthur's personal manservant." She began pacing, her madness taking hold and leading her mind down the wrong path, "He must be in contact with them somehow. If I could just figure out how, then I can take care of that man once and for all."

Lot raised an eyebrow, slightly bemused at her ramblings. His own mind fluttering through the possibilities of having a man so close to Arthur in his cells, "Perhaps I could assist you with that, dear girl. But first, I want what you promised me." His eyes gazed over Morgana lustfully.

Her eyes flickered gold for an instant, but nothing happened. Lot let out with a hearty laugh, spreading his arms widely, "This is my domain Morgana, and I'm not as naïve in the ways of magic, or protection from it, as your brother. Now, come and share my wine. On the morrow, perhaps, my men will begin questioning the servant and we will soon find out the truth behind your ghost."

'Emrys is not a ghost,' she thought silently, scowling at the king. She learned from her sister that sometimes the best way to get what you wanted was to give something, the raven-haired woman walked towards Lot. Not as practiced in her feminine charms and manipulation as Morgause, Morgana felt sickened as she was pulled down into his lap, but her desire to destroy Emrys over-rode the revulsion. Before coming here, she had no idea that Sir Gwaine had any relations to royalty, much less King Lot. If she had known she might have been able to use that, other than a seducing promise to get what she wanted.

(*~*~*~*)

"I definitely think I prefer the dungeons in Camelot to this place," Merlin stated bluntly, crinkling his nose. The walls were slick with moss and lichen, the floor piled with years of human waste covered in vain with layers of straw. He swore that once they were free, he was burning these clothes first chance he had.

Gwaine laughed in agreement, "So any chance of getting us out of here?" He wiggled his fingers and rolled his eyes, mocking a spell-casting.

Merlin could feel the wards placed throughout the castle as they were brought in. Their magic weighed even heavier in the dungeon, escape was always a possibility, but Merlin didn't know how much time they would have for him to work out the details. "I'm not sure I could. Your, ahem, 'gr-and-fa-ther'," he drew the word out punctuating each syllable in an attempt to make a point with his friend, "seems to have no problems using magic to aid him in keeping people from escaping, judging by the runes near the door." The warlock motioned to carved symbols above the cell gate. "I am curious how he knew you, specifically, were coming this way."

"Spies are everywhere. Right now we should be more worried about the morning, if I recall what my mother said; he likes to do his torturing before breakfast, 'gives him an appetite'," Gwaine spat on the floor. They sat back in silence for a while, wrists and legs still cuffed, preventing too much movement. "I suppose I should clear some things up for you now, eh?"

The warlock shrugged, "If you like. I'm not a stranger to keeping secrets, so anything you tell me, I'll take to my grave if you ask."

Rolling his eyes and chuckling Gwain responded, "That could be sooner than you think, my friend."

"Well then, talk quickly." Merlin replied with his happy-idiot smile, typically saved for Arthur when he was in one of his moods, as if that single look was going to solve everything.

Gwaine licked his lips, and decided to start at the beginning. "My mother was Lot's oldest child. My father was his nephew Owain, who had come down from Hen Ogledd to serve as a knight. They fell in love, got married in secret, she became pregnant with yours truly, and she said her father tried to throw her from a cliff when he found out. Somehow she survived and then she and my father fled to Caerleon's kingdom. When I was a babe my father was killed in battle. My mother went to the king, as I told you. She also tried to go to Owain's father and plead with him to help, but King Urien cast her out for getting his son killed. What I told you was true," Gwaine leaned in conspiratorially, "I REALLY hate nobles."

Merlin placed a comforting hand on the knight's shoulder, as best he could, given the constraints, "I can see why."

They startled when the lock to the cell door was turned. Prince Gareth glanced cautiously behind him before moving into the cell.

"Ah, speak of one the devils!" Gwaine quipped, making it sound like a challenge.

To his credit, Gareth ignored the wisecrack, "Quickly, you must follow me if you want to escape from here." He spoke quietly, unlocking the chains that bound the men.

Not being men to look a gift horse in the mouth, they made haste after the Prince.

Gareth efficiently led them out of the dungeon and down a dark passage. "Consider yourselves lucky, usually when a prisoner passes this way he is already dead or will soon be."

"Why are you helping us?" Merlin asked Gareth inquisitively, "Not that I mind, but I am highly curious."

He looked at Merlin oddly then turned to Gwaine, "We don't have time for this now. Just keep moving, I can hide you both in the city until morning and then when the market opens you should be able to walk out and be on your way."

"Shouldn't we sneak out while it's dark?" Merlin queried, unable to help himself.

Gareth shot him a glare and looked to reprimand the servant, but decided it would be faster to just answer. "My father keeps the gates closed to all but the knights after dark, and the wards placed will alert him if someone breaks through. So do not attempt to leave on your own." He warned.

"And what of the mention of war with Camelot?"

"Do you always let your servant do so much of the talking?" The prince asked his nephew, wholly unused to the idea that a peasant would ask so many questions of a higher ranking man.

Gwaine had to stifle a laugh, "Oh you have no idea. But answer his question anyway." He implored, still playing the part. "Just pretend it's me asking to save time."

Gareth sighed, seeing that they were obviously going no further until the questions were answered. "Fine then, have it your way. He doesn't want war with Camelot, when he heard from his source that it was you among those travelling, he set out extra patrols in the area. He's just upset that you decided to go to Camelot to be of service instead of coming to him."

"HE TRIED TO KILL MY MOTHER!" Gwaine roared before remembering where they were, "His own daughter!"

The prince paused, an unreadable look on his face, "Is that what she told you? Father wanted the marriage annulled, Owain exiled for his indiscretion, and Teneu was to be sent to a nunnery until you were born, afterwards she was to come back here and possibly marry a minor noble. Rather than let that happen MY SISTER tried to throw herself off the crag while I watched, helpless. She was saved by a woman passing through," Prince Gareth glanced away as if remembering that day clearly before he continued.

"Then father chose to look the other way as the two of them ran, in hopes she would someday see sense and come back home - even going so far as to forge a truce with Caerleon so he could urge her to come back." Gareth paused to take a breath, sadness etching his face, "My mother died shortly thereafter, broken-hearted that her only daughter would disavow her family so completely. I was not yet ten years old when that happened."

Gwaine staggered back as if he had been dealt a physical blow. Merlin caught his shoulders, he had seen the heartbreak of Uther when Morgana's treachery was revealed, he imagined his friend's grandmother must have been similarly shaken, and he could tell Gwaine wasn't faring much better with this news. Gwaine stood up straight and looked at Gareth, his face a stony mask that Merlin knew was his way of pushing it down to deal with it later, "Alright, let's get out of here."

Gareth nodded, watching the way Merlin acted more a friend than a servant to his nephew. It began to dawn on him that perhaps the black-haired man was more than what he appeared.

Once outside in the fresh air, Gwaine seemed to be coming back to himself, "I don't suppose you plan on hiding us in a tavern, eh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to mix historical mythology with the Merlin TV show... and it's been quite a challenge. So there are a lot of things I am putting my own fictional twist on. Such as making Gwaine into Lot's grandson, and also using the Lot of Orkney path (which may be inaccurate, because I have found three different versions of a King Lot tied to Arthurian myths). In my own way I'm attempting to honor the legends. I would greatly appreciate any comments and/or reviews on my work. THANKS!


	6. Not all is what it appears

The door to the throne room suddenly burst open. "Your Majesty," called out one of Lot's Knights from the door, bowing low. "Prince Gaheris has returned from patrol with news."

The eldest son of Lot strode into the chamber looking battle-worn and exhausted; his hair graying slightly at the temples, tucked neatly behind the prince's ears, but still the family resemblance stood out. He took a knee before the throne, "Father, the Saxon's…" Gaheris cast an uneasy glance at the pale women his father was currently entertaining.

Morgana was more than thankful for the intrusion; she never understood how her sister could allow men like Lot to touch her. Pushing herself roughly off of the King's lap she moved to just behind the throne, smoothing out her skirts.

Lot sat forward, now paying Morgana no more attention than he did Merlin, or his wine bearer, earlier in the evening. "Go on," he implored. The throne room began filling with people, Gareth slipped in among them quietly and moved to his father's side doing his best to ignore the woman.

"The Saxon's have begun massing; they seek to cut us off from King Urien in the north, Sire. Many of the outlying villages between here and North Umbria have already been raised. Rumor has come they are once again trying to take the land surrounding Dinas Emrys."

The King made a sound of disbelief, "They tried taking it from Vortigern when he betrayed them years ago. I was at the battle with High King Ambrosias when we defeated both the false king and the barbarians. The fools couldn't capture it then, and we won't let them have it now." He stood quickly and began barking orders, "Assemble the war council, call in the banners and prepare the men, if they want a fight, then we will give them one to remember. And we will send those barbarians back across the sea where they came from!"

Morgana's eyes shot open, Dinas Emrys. Her mind reeled with the possibilities the name could hold for her quest for vengeance.

Her world began to spiral down when a messenger ran up to the king, "Sire," he said softly, "The prisoners have escaped."

To her dismay King Lot seemed to brush it off, "Let my wayward grandson run, as he always does. I have more important matters at hand."

The look on Morgana's face did not wholly go unnoticed. Soon the King was busy with his generals and she slipped out, cursing softly about the turn of events. Gareth gave her a bit of a head start before following. Something in the way she moved set his nerves on edge. Her dark cloak, tattered at the base swept softly across the floor as she made her way to the rooms provided. Her dark hair, once a source of her vanity fell in around her face in tangles only serving to accentuate the look of psychotic lunacy from the piercing gray eyes. Those eyes now glanced up and down the hall before she entered her quarters. The prince slipped stealthily up to the door, he was certain the first sound from the other side of the door wasn't human, but as he listened Gareth could hear Morgana crooning softly in her madness.

(*~*~*~*)

"How dare he let them escape, but no matter Aithusa, I know now where they might be heading," Her expression changing with each new thought that raced through her mind, as she held up a scroll case.

The young dragon placed her head on the lap of the one she had come to love. They spent two years in almost total darkness imprisoned together at the hands of an unknown warden, and it was Morgana's love of the creature that kept Aithusa alive. "I must reach this Saxon army before they inadvertently stumble across Emrys. I am sure he is the one who did this to us!" Aithusa whimpered and nuzzled Morgana's thin pale hand, unable to speak and convey her thoughts to her mistress. The witch took it as a sign of fear from the dragonling, "I won't let him hurt us ever again my sweet, I promise. At first light we will put this place behind us and soon we will be free of that cursed man forever." Morgana lay on the bed, hoping for some precious rest before the morning, Aithusa dropped her scaly and unhealthy form to the floor in front of the bed, doing the best she could to guard her mistress.

(*~*~*~*)

"We received word late last night; the Saxons are making a press toward the peninsula. I assume the two of you will find your friend and go back to Camelot?" Gareth asked hopeful as they stood near the edge of the forest, the cool morning air creating steam from his breath. True to his word, when the gates opened at first light, the farmers made their way past the walls and into the market, Gareth helped the two men walk out. He managed to retrieve most of the possessions from the guards, however he felt it might be too suspicious if he were to bring their horses as well.

Gwaine looked at Merlin then back to Gareth, "There is no other with us."

"I think for now, my path lies to the west." The warlock's face turned to the mountains; he spoke as if his mind was already climbing the steep hills before them.

"You aren't just a servant, are you?" The prince asked curiously, realizing that there might not be an old man at all, just an old soul. Dark brown eyes weighed carefully the information he knew about the black-haired young man. Merlin spoke out of turn, took the lead, and now was deciding the path, not something a properly trained peasant would do.

"I am a servant - to Arthur and his destiny," his eyes still holding a faraway look, the conviction of emotion in his voice even catching Gwaine by surprise. Merlin was actually shocked that he allowed these two men to know what he had been thinking. Deep inside he was being drawn towards this, whether it was possible knowledge of his father or something else, he couldn't say, but as he held the faraway vision it seemed to grow stronger.

The knight furrowed his brow, but he let the comment go, for the moment. "Then to the western hills we shall go, my friend." Gwaine clasped Merlin's shoulder. He could almost feel the pull for his companion to prove himself to Arthur and the people they left back in Camelot.

The prince was eyeing up Merlin, "Well then, you should know my father's most recent mistress seeks to bar your way as well."

"We don't even know her, why would she wish us ill?" Gwaine chuckled in disbelief.

"Maybe she does know you, and that's the problem," Merlin teased. "Who is she? What does she look like?"

Gareth paused, "I never caught her name. And I know not what she has at her disposal, some manner of creature at the least. Her hair is dark as the ravens wing, her manner of dress is that of a witch more than a mistress…"

Blue eyes widening, Merlin's breath caught in his throat as he prayed the answer wouldn't be what he feared. Yet, as he glanced at Gwaine they both had the same name cross their lips, "Morgana."

"If she knows we were coming this way, it means she has a spy in Camelot, possibly someone quite close to the princess." The knight concluded.

Merlin pursed his lips and scrunched his face, pushing his fear down, he had an idea of who the spy might be, but chose to keep his suspicions to himself for the time. He warned Arthur of his concern for the newest knight before they left, now they were days away from Camelot and if Morgana was here then at least Merlin hoped Camelot and the king were relatively safe for the time being. "I have to keep going Gwaine. Perhaps you should turn back to warn Arthur."

The knight was visibly conflicted, the duty to his king, or the promise to a friend, "And what if you meet her on the road, mate? I know you…" he stopped himself short of blurting out his friend's secret in front of the Prince they barely knew. His head inclined, imploring Merlin to understand the unspoken, "but I can't let you go on alone!"

Gwaine's reluctance to say what was on his mind served as the final piece to convince Gareth of the dark-haired man's importance. Perhaps Merlin was simply playing the part of a servant to pass through the lands, if their quest was important enough for two men to brave crossing hostile lands, Saxons, a witch, and who knew what else, his honor as a Prince, and a promise made to a stranger years ago dictated that he help in any manner he could. Lot would be furious, especially with the oncoming conflict, but Gareth couldn't see any other option, and he didn't trust a herald to convey the message properly.

"I will go to Camelot for you. What message shall I give your King?" This time he didn't even bother glancing at his nephew, he stood at attention and waited for Merlin to answer.


	7. A step and a Song

"Really? You're going to start singing again?" The pair had been walking for nearly three days, since they hadn't been able to retrieve their horses from Lot's stables in the escape, and the country side was so rugged most of the peasants didn't have a pony to spare. Growing up in such a small community, Merlin never thought about the convenience of riding everywhere. Now after years of following Arthur, he realized he had taken that luxury for granted, especially when the Knight with him proclaimed himself to be the shanty man for their journey to keep the walking interesting.

Gwaine was his ever cheery self, having pushed past the revelations of his family history, and buried them for the time being deep inside himself. "As I was sitting 'round the fire, getting drunk on gin and water, suddenly a thought occurred to me, why not shag O'Riley's daughter…"

Merlin groaned and winced, he had already been tortured with this particularly nasty tavern song earlier in the day, and it was certainly not one of the better ones in the rogue's repertoire. "Pick something else to sing at least, please!" He begged.

Gwaine chuckled, a mischievous grin on his face as he changed tunes, "There was a young sailor, who looked through the glass, and spied a fair mermaid, with scales on her…"

Merlin stopped and turned to his companion, wondering if he should use a spell to mute him.

Gwaine paused momentarily for effect then continued his song, knowing he had the warlocks full attention, "… island, where seagulls fly over their nests, she combed the long hair that hung over her… shoulders."

It was by far the cleanest song Gwaine had sung the entire journey. Merlin simply groaned again and turned back to the path, he soon was humming along despite himself.

By the time they made camp that evening, Merlin couldn't get the tune out of his head, and it was giving him a headache trying to stop. Not to mention he was weary, wet from a constant drizzle of rain that seemed to follow them through the day, hungry for a fresh hot meal cooked by someone else, and acting in generally miserable company. Gwaine was attempting to start a fire with wet wood, having very little success. Frustrated by the knight's lack of progress, Merlin held his hand over the pile of wood, causing Gwaine to look at him with curiosity, "Forbearnan." Merlin's eyes glowed, changing to a golden hue as the flames took hold.

Gwaine jumped back in shock, his eyes wide. In the time traveling together, neither had really spoken about magic, except while they sat in the dungeons, and Gwaine's comment at the time had been more wishful thinking than anything. "How did… I mean, you just…"He inhaled sharply, raking his fingers through his messy hair. Gwaine exhaled with a raspberry and sat back down, "You, my friend, are kind of scary when you do that whole… thing." His words were accentuated by him holding his hand out towards the fire in a mock gesture of what his friend had just done.

Merlin cocked his head to one side then back to the other, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline, as he assessed Gwaine with an amused stare. Merlin had become so used to hiding his power over the years that it occurred to him this was the first time that he openly cast a spell in front of his companion, and the reaction was priceless. "That whole… 'magic' thing?" he said with humor in his voice "Yes, Gwaine, I do have magic."

"I know, it was brought up, you know, at the council," Gwaine's words staggered, "but thinking it and seeing it, mate… wow. You really do have magic!"

Merlin nodded slowly, "I do have magic."

Gwaine stared at the fire for a few minutes then looked up at Merlin, an ornery gleam in his eyes, "What else can you do?" He challenged, obviously wanting to now make a game of it.

(*~*~*~*)

"We saw many years of peace under your father's reign, after his passing, rest his soul, we have born witness to a number of tragedies."

"Many of those tragedies and the strife began years before his passing. And yes there was a type of peace before that, but whom among us didn't fear what the late King Uther would have done if even a shadow of a doubt was cast."

"If there was nothing to doubt, we need not fear him."

"There were many years of turmoil before the Great Purge, fear or no, he did bring about a time of calm and prosperity for the kingdom."

"My grandfather spoke of the years before Uther Pendragon took the throne, during his predecessor's rule the kingdom was at peace as well after he pushed the barbarian Saxons back. It appeared the turmoil truly began once King Uther took the throne. Whether it was his young age, or the transition of power, I can't say."

"The past always looks better to the elderly as they age and times change."

The King kept his composure well listening to the opinions of the nobles. They had gathered just after breakfast to begin discussions, now it was well after the lunch hour and as yet it wasn't going that well. The conversation and arguments continued to go around in circles, just as it had with his trusted knights. Finally he stood, "And that is precisely why I am bringing these matters to you all. I am not my father, and times always change things else we find ourselves stagnant in life. I am not speaking of completely rewriting history, many of the laws set forth are good and serve in the best interest of us all, there are a few that need re-examined in light of new times.

"It seems many of those with magic who have attempted to bring down our great city in the past years, have done so solely out of vengeance for The Great Purge and Uther's intolerance of anything magical." Arthur was walking pointedly around the table of councilors and wise-men as he spoke. When the guards opened the door and Elyan came in to the room.

He bowed to the king, "Apologies, Your Majesty, We just escorted a man who claims to be a Lothian Prince into the city, he says he has an urgent message for you."

Arthur nodded his acknowledgement; inside he wanted to jump for joy as his head was beginning to reel from the rounds of seemingly pointless bickering. "I think this would be a good time to break, think over what all has been said, and we can reconvene later to continue our business."

(*~*~*~*)

"Who is that?" Mordred stood by the main stairs leading into the castle and watched with warily as a small assembly of guards rode into the courtyard escorting an unknown man. He was in the armory when he heard that Elyan rode back ahead of the patrol group to alert King Arthur of a guest. Quickly he donned his gear and now stood next to Leon as the man dismounted.

"By the looks of him, he's one of Lot's men, probably a nobleman," the elder knight responded.

It was all Mordred could do to keep his sudden apprehension from showing. The arrival could of this man could either be a good thing or very bad for his plans of vengeance. "What do you think he wants here? Do you think it could have something to do with…"

"Shh," Leon cautioned the lad. As part of his training to become a true knight of Camelot the boy had been shadowing Sir Leon for a few weeks and the elder knight knew the boy to be sharp. He had quickly figured out something more was going on with the departure of Gwaine and Merlin on their mission when Leon had begun to ask hypothetical questions concerning magic. Some of the words Mordred spoke caught Leon off guard, but most he chalked it up to the curiosity of the young mind. 'Out of the mouths of babes' as the saying went, had Leon contemplating many things these days.

He loved Merlin like a little brother, though the man was well below him in station. It still didn't fit together in Leon's mind how he could be a sorcerer and a well-meaning idiot at the same time. The man he saw rise to face the King in the small darkened room was so completely different than the boy he had come to know. He just couldn't figure out, if Merlin was coercing the King, what his endgame might be. It certainly wasn't to usurp the king, if what Leon learned was anything to judge by, the servant had many chances, unless of course Merlin truly was a very lucky idiot who didn't have the power to take over a kingdom.

Somehow the idea that Merlin was as bad of a magician as he was a servant seemed to fit the best. It didn't explain things like the earth shaking, perhaps though each time was simply coincidence and luck. And then there was the time he recalled finding Merlin in the armory searching for a crossbow.

_"Will that do the job?"_

_"Oh, yes. That will do the job nicely." Merlin practically giggled._

_"Er, what is the job, exactly?"_

_"To kill Arthur."_

_"He's driving you mad, is he?"_

_"Not for much longer."*_

If Merlin was a sorcerer so powerful he could make the earth shake truly wanted to kill Arthur, why would he use a crossbow? The manservant was truly an odd character that lacked any sane definability for Leon. As a result the knight commander only became more confused.

The two knights stood to the side, each in their own thoughts, as the guest was escorted into the castle, and fell in after the party had passed.

(*~*~*~*)

"Welcome to Camelot," Arthur stated evenly from his throne as the man was escorted in. The throne room was crowded with people, many of those from the earlier meeting stood around the edges of the room, and all the knights available had taken up defensive positions near their king. Gwen sat quietly next to Arthur as they received the visitor.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I am Prince Gareth, second son of King Lot." The Prince bowed in respect and proceeded to name his ties and titles as he was properly trained to do.

"What brings you my city Prince Gareth?" Arthur asked, trying to keep suspicion from his voice. If Lot had captured Gwaine and Merlin it wouldn't make sense to send one of his sons alone to convey the news as he could be used as a hostage- which is what Uther would have done.

Gareth's eyes darted left and right taking in the gathered assemblage. "I believe it would be best to speak confidentially about this matter, Sire." He tugged at his sleeve, revealing a corner of a red neckerchief, just enough so the King would see it. Merlin explained that might be the best way to signal who the message was really from.

"I see," Arthur nodded understanding. "Let us adjourn to someplace a bit more private than, shall we." The king stood, offering his hand to Guinevere. "Sir Leon, Sir Elyan – if you would join us." Percival was out leading a patrol to the south, unaware of the visitor and Gaius was nowhere to be seen, probably out on his daily round in the city. It had been more difficult on the elderly man since Merlin left; Arthur reminded himself that he needed to appoint the physician a real apprentice one of these days.

The crowd began to murmur as the ones named followed the king from the throne room. Mordred started to follow Leon who shook his head, signaling the boy not to follow.

Once in the private antechamber, Arthur closed the door. "You have news from Merlin and Gwaine?" He asked, not bothering with the political beating around the bush.

Gareth raised an eyebrow, realizing how alike the King of Camelot and his servant were in their straightforward mannerisms. He pulled the scarf out and handed it to Arthur, "He asked that I give you this, to prove the communication is from him.

"A woman came to my father recently and told him of your men traveling north. Normally he wouldn't be bothered by it, but he has a personal stake with one of them."

Elyan rolled his eyes, "Great, Gwaine probably owes coin to every tavern in the kingdom."

Gareth looked at the dark-skinned knight incredulously, his mouth open slightly as he tried to find the best way to respond. It was an interesting little tidbit to know about his nephew, "Not that I am aware of, however I will look into that when I return home."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose before bidding Gareth to continue. Gwen poured wine for them all; taking the red cloth from her husband wondering what had befallen her friends as she sat down to listen.

"Of course, Sire," He said by way of an apology. "As I was saying, my father was informed of their travels, he set out patrols and they were apprehended. Then we received news of a large host of Saxon's ravaging north of us, the likes of which have not been seen since High King Ambrosias came into power, uniting much of Albion under him. I played a part in helping your men to escape while my father was distracted. They feared the woman my father took as consort had a spy in your midst." Gareth watched the reactions of all four in the room. "My…Sir Gwaine said he believed it was someone close to 'the princess'."

Gwen sucked in her lips and tried to mask a very un-queenly snort of amusement, "Forgive me. There is no princess in Camelot; it is a nickname Sir Gwaine has seen fit to call my husband since nearly the time they met."

Gareth nodded slowly, astounded at the foreignness of King Arthur's people compared to the court of his father. He could see now why after years of playing the rogue throughout all the kingdoms Gwaine had finally decided to settle and become a knight of Camelot.

"Does this woman of your fathers have a name?" Sir Leon asked, thinking they all knew who was behind this.

Gareth looked at the king, "They believe she is called Morgana and I fear she might have made off with the map they carried."

Arthur's cup flew out of his hand to crash against a wall. He clenched his fists, struggling to maintain control. The queen suddenly looked exhausted, Elyan's eyes widened with a hint of fear. Even Leon appeared ready to burst, "Sire, this must end soon, for the sake of us all."

"Did they say anything about who the spy could be?" Guinevere asked softly, after the treachery of her maid she was didn't want to believe anyone else in their close circle could be a part of Morgana's plots

"They don't need to," Arthur responded, his voice cold and even. He turned his back to others, least the see the heartbreak in his eyes from confirming another betrayal.

"You know who it is? Why haven't you done anything about it, Arthur?" his wife looked surprised.

"I have my reasons, just leave it at that." His tone left no room for argument. He blinked slowly before turning to Gareth and changing the subject, "If I may ask, why you decided to assist them?"

Gareth studied the floor between his feet for a few moments before speaking, not wanting to drag his families past out in front of a foreign king, "When I was young, my sister was… injured. A woman passing through the area saved her. I offered to take her to my father so she might receive a reward. Instead she told me to be vigilant and to look for certain signs that would bring a coming change, and when I saw them I was to help two men on their journey as they followed the same path she took.

"As you can imagine, I waited for years throughout my childhood searching for any indication that it was time for me to repay her. I had nearly forgotten all about it, until they showed up. The woman was a seer, a priestess of the old religion, fleeing far from Camelot at the time of your father's Great Purge to seek the aid of King Uther's brother. After they were captured, I happened to see their map while my father was studying it and I knew my debt to her could finally be squared."

The all stood and quietly listened to the prince's story. Finally Elyan spoke up, "Arthur, if Morgana knows where they are going, we need to do something," he implored, not wishing to leave his friends to face the witch alone.

The King nodded, his eyes gazing off at the far wall in thought. "We'll never catch up to them on horses, and I doubt if your father would be lenient enough to let myself and my knight's through, especially with the Saxons pressing him from the north."

"We could send word to Caerleon, asking Queen Annis if we could borrow a ship and sail to the north." Leon suggested.

It was a sound idea and Arthur quickly agreed, "Elyan- ride out immediately to Queen Annis and bring her our request. Sir Leon- see that the knights are prepared also send someone out to bring the news to Percival, I want him with us. We'll leave by midday tomorrow. Guinevere," He paused as she stood up on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss his check.

"I'll go inform Gaius and do what I can to ready things for you, my love."

He smiled at her, relieved, knowing she was the perfect regent for the kingdom while he was away. "Will you join us, Prince Gareth?" Arthur inquired.

Gareth bowed, "As long as what you do does not go against my father, I will gladly aide you."

Arthur smiled and dismissed them all, summoning a servant to see to the Prince's needs. He sat down in the quiet of the anteroom after they were gone, he still had a traitor to deal with and he realized this would be the first time he didn't have Merlin at his side taking care of it for him in the quiet shadows of the kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious – both songs I learned listening to a now defunct Pirate a-cappella group called the Corsairs. youtube "Corsairs Clean Song" Or google bawdy folk songs for the full version of that one. The first one is called One-Ball Riley, which I will warn you, is a pretty nasty song- but funny as hell if you can find a copy of it.  
> *- transcript from episode 4.06 "A Servant of Two Masters" is not mine, simply borrowed for use in my plotting.


	8. Feeling of Home

"Are you sure we're going the right direction?"

"Well did you see anyone we could have stopped to ask? Trust me; this is the way I think we need to go." Truthfully, Merlin was beginning to wonder himself if they were indeed on the correct path. As they came around the hills earlier that day they had the choice to cut through following a river that seemed to wind north and east or another one farther south that appeared to lead out past the bay down south east into the actual peninsula.

"'Trust me', he says, you're beginning to sound like Arthur," Gwaine commented offhandedly. "You know something I don't get, mate?"

"Just one thing?" Merlin chuckled. Since the fire a couple evenings before the knight had been relentless in his questions about Merlin and his magic.

Gwaine raised an eyebrow, quirking his lips oddly, "If you have all this power, why don't you just say a few words, wave your hand, make your eyes glow, and change things?"

"Like what would you have me change?" Merlin asked, truly curious for an outside point of view.

"Well, Uther for starters, why couldn't you have just, you know," Gwaine made a gurgled sound, running his index finger across his neck for emphasis.

Merlin closed his eyes and shook his head, "Then I would be no better than Morgana. I had my chances, believe me. But each time I've had to kill, it has left a stain on my conscience wondering what I could have done differently, and I could never kill Arthur's father."

"Ok let's not say kill then, could you have turned him into something?"

"Like what?"

"Like a newt!"

Merlin bit his tongue to keep from laughing at the excited look on his friend's face, "A newt?"*[1]

Gwaine's face dropped and he sighed melodramatically, "That really wouldn't have made him any better, would it?"

"No, not really. Perhaps a slight bit scalier…" Merlin's voice trailed off as the pair crested a knoll. His jaw fell open, below them stood a valley with a meadow ringed in thick old forest; a lake could be seen down the vale. Across from them the hills rose beyond, steeper and steeper as each hill grew until far on the horizon stood a single snowcapped mountain. The peak was sharply pointed to the sky. The sunlight seemed to reflect off the ice causing the valley to shine even brighter. Flora of uncountable colors covered the meadow floor.

A shaky breath escaped Merlin, a voice from the past filtering through his memory _"My home was next to a lake surrounded by the tallest mountains. In the winter the storms whipped up the water into waves and you thought they were going to crash down and take away all the houses. But in the summer, wild flowers and light. It was like heaven."_ *[2]

"Freya, you were right, this is like heaven." He thought to himself, he allowed himself to believe this might have been her home.

"Who's Freya?" Gwaine asked curiously.

Merlin closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, realizing that what he said must not have been confined in his mind. "She was…" he paused, his eyes misting, and a smile Gwaine unlike any he had ever seen on his friend appeared as he was trying to describe her, "She was the most beautiful girl I have ever known. She knew who I was, what I was, and loved me for it. And I loved her, with all my heart. When she told me of her home, this is exactly what she described. Her eyes were so bright remembering it."

"You never told me you had a girl?"

Merlin nudged at a rock with his toe, eyes downcast, "She died. We were going to run away together, Arthur and my destiny be damned. But she was cursed and it killed her before we could."

Gwaine placed a hand on his friends shoulder, "God, Merlin, I, I don't know what to say."

"It's alright," Merlin nodded giving Gwaine a grateful look, "It was many years ago."

They stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the peaceful scene before continuing.

"No, I really don't know what to say… you seriously had a girlfriend?" Gwaine patted the warlock on the back, "Maybe you aren't as hopeless as I thought. I'd begun to think you and Arthur had something going before he married." The knight joked to lighten the mood. He had taken no more than two steps forward when he found himself face down in a mud puddle.

Merlin stepped over him and continued down the hill, "Sorry about that. Sometimes spells just slip out."

Across the meadow and river, overlooking the lake at the very top of another hill, stood a keep, it's wooden walls and stone wall with turrets, half crumbling down the hill. In the center they could see a courtyard and stone buildings in disrepair. They made their way up the overgrown path to the gates, broken and unusable from years of neglect. Signs of a battle long past, eroded and barely visible had left its mark on the fort as well. In the center of the courtyard a stone circle was marked out. Merlin could feel the stirrings of power as he stepped into it. He relished in the sensation it gave him, the entire area gave him a sense of homecoming.

Merlin and Gwaine, grinned at each other as they explored, suddenly feeling like boys half their age. They began racing around, trying to outdo one another in climbing as high as they dared. One turret near the northern wall still stood strong and they reached the top together. "What a view." Gwaine remarked.

Smiling, Merlin agreed and they settled in on the stone floor of the tower. The map had been one of the items Gareth was unable to retrieve when he assisted their escape, and now the warlock was certain he had lead them down the wrong river, but as the stars above began to twinkle into existence with the setting of the sun, it didn't matter. A half-a-day's worth of backtracking was a cheap price to pay to find this place.

(*~*~*~*)

_She tucked her head between her knees, rocking back and forth humming tunelessly to comfort herself. Why did no one try to help her? It was cold in the darkness, every once in a while she could see a glimmer of something beyond. Other times it felt as if there were two different areas of darkness and she would be torn back and forth between them. The blackest one had no walls, no windows; it was a void of pure nothingness. She would feel her body weaken to the point where she would lose hold and then suddenly she could feel a wall behind her and a creature sharing the space._

_She remembered she was dying, and then she was in a beautiful place, only to be wrenched into the darkness worse than death. Shut away from it everything she knew. It was almost dreamlike that she felt warmth for a flashing moment, it was bright and beautiful then the darkness would overwhelm her – sending her scurrying back into the deepest recesses of her mind. One name echoed through the darkness… the name of the man who could rescue her. Emrys._

(*~*~*~*)

The raven flitted on a rock, cawing out for attention and perhaps a scrap of food. Morgana eyed the bird through hooded lids, her head rolling back and forth on her neck as she crooned to the bird. The black winged beast ceased its noise and watched the woman approach. She held out her hand, the raven pecked at the fingers, and squawked loudly in disappointment that they did not bear food.

Taking the bird in her fist, Morgana released the small scroll of parchment attached to its leg. She smiled sweetly at the bird, cuddling it briefly before tossing it into the open mouth of the white dragon behind her. Aithusa happily ate it in two swallows.

_Morgana- Make haste, your brother plans to mobilize to the area by sea and Lot's forces will be at your heels on land if you do not hurry. Arthur has somehow been in contact with Emrys even now he heads for the monastery. Camelot's King must never see what Emrys will discover if you are to ever to take your rightful place._

The witch looked back at the company following her, one of many bands of Saxon's lead by the warlord Sunna, she convinced him that it was she who had taken out his rival warlord in Ismere. She smiled coldly, thankful that the war chief was easier to persuade than Lot had been. All she needed was to demonstrate her magic and offer to help him 'burn Albion to the ground' and he gave her a small but highly skilled band of swordsman to move ahead across the land. With map in hand she knew exactly where the men were headed, Arthur's men would never reach the monastery in time. Even if they did, she would have the Saxons waiting for him before any help could arrive.

(*~*~*~*)

"So, do you want to talk about it?" They sat in front of the hearth in a room that still seemed fairly secure below the turret. A fire burning brightly in front of them they were thankful for being indoors. Since escaping from Lot with Prince Gareth's help, they had purposely avoided townships and villages. With Morgana on their tail the two men couldn't help but to be overly cautious.

"Talk about what?" Gwaine replied nonchalantly.

Merlin sighed softly, "I remember the betrayal I felt when I was first told that my father still lived. I was so angry at my mother and Gaius for having lied to me about it. I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

Gwaine glared angrily at the fire, as if willing it to burst forth with his anger. Merlin could see the war waging inside his friend. He waited patiently for a while before realizing that the knight wasn't going to answer.

"When I was young, my mum always told me he'd died. That he was a farmer, nobody special and that she barely knew him. I asked Gaius about him, and he said he'd never known him." Merlin watched the fire, but could see Gwaine beginning to take an interest.

"You said you met him briefly, though."

The warlock nodded, "You remember hearing about the Great Dragon that attacked Camelot?" Merlin continued as Gwaine nodded, "Gaius mentioned that there was still a Dragonlord alive. Uther was adamant that Arthur NOT leave to go find him, but as usual he didn't listen. Before we left, Gaius told me that the man we were going to find was actually my father. We found him, I told him who I was, and then the next morning he was killed saving me."

Gwaine snorted glancing at Merlin conspiratorially, "And to this day the princess thinks he defeated the dragon. It's one of his best stories."

Merlin looked at Gwaine curiously, "Yeah… how do you… "

"I've traveled around enough and heard many stories – including ones about the Dragonlords. Don't worry, I won't tell him." The roguish knight winked.

"I still haven't told my mother about it."

"Why not?"

The warlock shrugged, "I don't know. There are hundreds of different excuses I could come up with. Pride? Perhaps, I haven't forgiven her for lying to me. Maybe, I just want her to finally open up and tell me when she's ready or it could be a simple matter that I want to let her keep hope that he may still be out there loving her from afar. Love can make us do crazy things.

"Do you think your mum was so afraid of being separated from you and your father because she loved you so much that part of what Gareth said could be true?" Merlin ventured, pressing his companion for a reaction.

"My mother always talked about how much she loved my father. 'Each day without him would have been torture' she said- If she didn't have me to remind her. She swore that she would rather die than have anyone take me away from her." Gwaine sat staring deeper into the flames and Merlin sat quietly leaving him to his thoughts. After a few minutes Gwaine rubbed his hands roughly across his face, "GAH! Merlin, I love you like a brother, but I'm beginning to see why you annoy Arthur so much of the time! How you are able turn conversations around like that is frustrating as hell!" The knight picked up a piece of dried bread and chucked it at the smirking warlock.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1 a virtual shrubbery if you can guess the movie! (Yeah, ok cheesy way to pay homage to one of my favorites) *2 Transcript from Lady of the Lake episode.
> 
> Look up Llyn Gwynant on Wikipedia and you can see the area surrounding the ruins of Dinas Emyrs that my description (and Freya's) are based on. It is absolutely beautiful!


	9. The thing about regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and the knights in Caerleon preparing to sail north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this story, please leave a comment, or a review on it's Fanfiction.net version, I really appreciate feedback on my writing!

Gulls squabbled over a scrap of bait on the wharf, joined by the sound of sailors and dock workers yelling at each other over the soft splashing of the waves as they lapped against the ships. Horses nickered and pawed nervously from the shoreline. The smell of rotting fish and seaweed filled the air with an acrid odor.

High above on the cliffs stood the castle of Caerleon its looming presence a welcome sight for vessels coming home. Arthur watched the preparations from the walls of the city. Queen Annis had received word of the full Saxon invasion from her late husband's ally, King Lot, with a request for troops to sail and help secure the bay at the bottom of Snowdonia. It was within a day's ride to the monastery after that. When she received word via Sir Elyan, Annis immediately ordered for another ship to be readied for the King of Camelot and his men. The price of the ship was a request Arthur couldn't refuse – once Merlin and Gwaine were found, assist her in helping Lot push back the Saxons.

The ship captains all agreed that the morning tide would be the best time to set sail. After that, with strong wind in their favor they could anchor off the bay in less than two days. It was all Arthur could do to keep from pacing, he was anxious to get to Merlin.

He saw the people at the docks rushing about, including many of his knights who were busy trying to secure room and feed for the horses. He spied Mordred among them. Arthur had been torn when leaving Camelot, the young knight had begged to go with them, the request left a bad taste in the king's mouth, but he decided it would be safer to bring him along where he could keep an eye on the boy than to leave him in the city with Guinevere unattended.

The queen certainly had enough to deal with, especially concerning the state Arthur left the noble council in. He didn't envy his wife, but he trusted in her and Gaius to help further the change and ease the aristocrats into the future he had begun to envision. He just needed to find out the best way to keep the dream safe and deep down he knew it would be with Merlin at his side.

As he watched the movement on the docks below him, the king felt a chill run down his spine. In his heart he could see the love and respect in Mordred's eyes for his king, but he also recalled the coldness he felt from the young man as they watched Merlin and Gwaine ride away over two weeks before.

The dichotomy of emotions reminded Arthur of Merlin when Morgana came back from her year with Morgause. The main difference being Arthur now trusted, even if he didn't quite understand, Merlin's judgment of the situation. The night before his manservant departed, he met Arthur in his chambers anxiously wanting to speak.

_"Quit fidgeting, Merlin! You remind me of a nervous rabbit the way you are hoping around." Arthur pursed his lips and watched his friend. His left eyebrow rose and fell as the right one lifted and then back again as his eyes followed the pacing man._

_"This is all a bit new for me to open up about these things to you." Merlin paused looking ready to say something important, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then he started pacing again._

_"Oh for God's sake, quit being such a girl! If I had a clue what you were going on about it might help. Man-up and tell me already." The truth was Arthur did have an idea that what Merlin was trying to say had something to do with his magic, but being so freshly clued in to the information he didn't want to assume anything._

_The warlock forced himself to stop, which seemed to be an amazing feat of willpower, and took a deep breath, clearly at war with himself over how much to say. "Ok, to put it simply, I don't trust Mordred."_

_Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk patiently waiting for Merlin to continue. After a few moments he finally realized that wasn't going to happen without some prompting, "You've said that before. Can you finally tell me why?"_

_Merlin gave his friend a lop-sided grimace, "A vision?" He hoped Arthur would leave it at that, but deep inside he knew it wouldn't be enough for the king._

_"A vision," Arthur nodded thoughtfully, a dribble of sarcasm touching his words. "What was this 'vision'?"_

_A sudden sadness appeared to take hold of Merlin's crystal eyes, crossing deep into his soul. "Please don't… I…" he bit his bottom lip, "If our friendship means anything, don't ask me to tell you that. Just be weary of him, please Arthur."_

_The king stiffened, so many years of being kept in the dark about his manservant's talent, he felt like screaming at Merlin, ordering him to divulge the details of his prophecy. He inhaled deeply and allowed the tension to dissipate with the exhale._

_Finally he nodded, "Alright." He said begrudgingly, "you best go finish getting your things ready."_

_A very relieved Merlin bounced his way out of the King's chambers. Arthur was furious at himself for not pressing and grateful at the same time that Merlin chose to give him a warning at all. It reinforced his decision to send the warlock away. Arthur could almost feel his father's spirit, though he had sent it back to the grave, screaming at him. Some time apart from Merlin would be the best thing for the both of them right now._

Other than this premonition of Merlin's, Mordred had done nothing that Arthur could see that was beyond reproach. He'd asked Leon to personally mentor the young knight, as a way of keeping tabs on him, which in turn lead to the hushed conversation Arthur overheard in the armory. It could have been innocent enough, and it may have only been Merlin's warning that allowed the king's mind to become suspicious.

He heard someone come up behind him on the parapet. Arthur turned to see Queen Annis approaching.

"Is everything alright, Arthur?" She asked in a motherly tone.

He smiled and nodded, "Just concerned about my men."

"The two where we are going, or the ones here?" She waved her hand indicating the gathering on the docks.

"Both."

She nodded her understanding, "I see. Is there anything in particular that has you worried?"

"Merlin," he confessed after a heavy sigh.

"Not many would send their personal servant off with another knight, unless there was more to the story."

"Let's just say, I've recently discovered he has… hidden talents that have given me pause to re-evaluate some of my father's beliefs." Arthur remarked cryptically.

"Ah," she said knowingly, "Does this have anything to do with magic?"

Arthur gazed at the Queen suspiciously.

Annis smiled with the knowledge that her notion was confirmed. "A large part of the conflict between my late husband and your father was over the differences in their opinions on the subject. I had a sense of it when your servant first stumbled into my war tent. Then the shock on your face when he was able to juggle gave me another good inclination. The reason Caerleon was within Camelot's boundaries when you killed him was because of a soothsayer." Arthur was listening seriously to her. "He was told it was to be his duty to aid the people in your lands who had magic, looking for one in particular named Emrys, and offer them safe-harbor in ours." She watched the younger man's reaction closely.

Arthur chuckled sourly, giving no indication that he recognized the name. "My father would have had any seer put to death instantly."

"Not necessarily," Annis commented, laying the subject of her late husband's quest aside for another time. She had been a young maid, recently betrothed to the Prince of Caerleon when Uther was at the height of his power in Camelot. It was a dark time for them all, and Caerleon's father held an uneasy truce with Uther because he was either too scared or too smart to go to war with him. She continued, "Even with, and especially before, the Great Purge Uther would have either beguiled or tortured the poor soul until he got the information he wanted, then- he would have killed them as soon as they proved useless."

Arthur studied the Queen of Caerleon for a few moments. Although, he did not wish to burden her with his problems, his previous experience in dealing with traitors had diminished his confidence and he looked to her for guidance. "It has been suggested there is a spy in my ranks. I do not wish to be like my father and sentence a man without proof or a fair trial, but I don't want to discount the information either."

Annis leaned forward, resting her arms on the castle wall. "It has been my experience that by the time proof is found of treachery, the damage has already been done. It is a difficult game to play of politics and maneuvering. Sometimes a bit of misrepresentation can go a long way towards discovery. There are certainly more expedient ways of obtaining information- but none as reliable. If you have patience and time to carry it out. Remind yourself- that when we set sail tomorrow it will not only be your men at risk if information is being passed, but mine and King Lot's as well."

He stared out across the water deep in thought, finally he spoke again. "There is so much I don't understand. So much guilt I carry about what my father has done and how he handled these things. I don't want to do something I will regret."

"Regrets are a waste of time… they're just the past crippling you in the present.* Move forward young king, you are most certainly not your father." She patted his shoulder and turned away, leaving Arthur to his musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * is a quote by the same actress who plays Annis in one of my favorite movies of all time. – A virtual cookie if you know it! Hehe


	10. Ruthless Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur discusses things with Leon, while Morgana finds out a Pendragon family secret. The King and knights set sail.

Golden sunlight streamed through the leaded glass windows. The late afternoon light causing the shadows to lengthen and grow. A few of the windows were opened to let the late summer breeze flow into the room carrying the salted aroma of fresh sea air.

Arthur sent for Sir Leon to meet him in his solar under the assumption of discussing their next move after landing in the north. "Sit down please," he offered his knight commander the seat across from him at the desk provided by Queen Annis.

Arthur studied the knight, a man who had served him longer than anyone. Leon looked around the room and shifted in his seat, realizing it was just the two of them. "Is there something wrong, Sire?"

"I believe I know who Morgana's informant is, and if my suspicion proves correct, I would like to use it to our advantage if possible."

Leon's eyes widened, "Tell me who, Sire and I will have the person dealt with immediately."

"First, I need you to answer some questions for me." He watched as Leon leaned back curiosity etching his features as he nodded, waiting for his king to continue. "A couple weeks back, I was on my way to the armory when I overheard a conversation about magic and manipulation."

Leon's eyes shot open filled with guilt and surprise, he quickly lowered them, "Arthur, forgive me. I meant nothing by…"

Arthur held up his hand, "I know Leon. I trust you and I'm the one that asked you to mentor him. But I must know, have you seen anything suspicious from him, any inconsistencies?"

"You suspect Mordred?"

"Sorry to say, but I do. Did you say anything to him around the time Sir Gwaine and Merlin left?"

Leon took a deep breath, looking Arthur straight in the eyes. "I would never do such a thing, Sire." The elder knight sat in contemplation. It was hard for him to believe the young man would do anything against Arthur. Then as he thought about it more, small inconsistencies began to make themselves clear in his mind. "The morning of their departure, he was in the stables. Perhaps he could have overheard something."

"Anything else?"

"I have wondered if he knew Merlin had magic, Sire. It's nothing concrete- but a few times when we've spoken he has said odd things concerning your servant. Also, Elyan mentioned to me that before we left Camelot, Mordred was acting a bit odd – he appeared to be talking to the birds near the castle wall."

"He was raised amongst the druids, they talk to animals," Arthur commented offhandedly with a shrug. "His father was killed by Uther. Morgana, Merlin, and I kept him safe and snuck him out of the city. He then returned to the castle around the time the crystal was stolen from the vaults."

"I had no idea, sire. We went after that druid and destroyed his camp."

"Yes and he was also in the camp where we found Morgana after she had run away."

"The boy is loyal to you, sire. I can see it in his eyes." Leon turned his lips inward, "It was Merlin's trail we followed when Morgana was in the druid camp. Do you think, perhaps, this has nothing to do with you? If he does know Merlin's… abilities and knew Merlin could have helped, but didn't," He let his thoughts trail off. "This type of situation is why I'm having a difficult time accepting it all, why many of your subjects are and will. The games these magic users play are…"

"…Are games we all must play at some point, just with different weapons." The realization of what he said hit something deep in his core. He thought he was beginning to see what Merlin's life must have been the past years. Arthur cupped his chin, elbow resting on the arm of his chair, "From what Queen Annis has told me, my father was one of the most ruthless players ever. He died with his pieces still standing on the board, and expected me to continue the match."

If it was just Morgana and Merlin – Arthur could have dealt with it all, but the newest young knight threw an unknown factor into the game. As the sunset began the colors inside the room changed, casting an orange glow on the men as they sat. "What is our next move, Arthur?"

(*~*~*~*)

The rain fell in sheets and the wind through the straight pressed heavily on the abbey doors. Gregorian chants could be heard from the inner sanctum as the men tended to their evening prayers. Brother Jonah sat on a bench near the main entrance, a blanket bundled around his robes to help cut down the draft from under the solid wood doors. He fingered his rosary with reverence as he silently went through his prayers. On a night such as this, with the weather beating heavily down, he expected no visitors. So, Jonah was shocked out of his reverie when he heard a light knocking on the exterior of the door.

He moved quickly to open it; no one should be left standing out in the storm when comfort was available in the monastery walls. He removed the bar that kept the wind from breaking through and opened it just enough to admit a cloaked figure.

"In the name of God, I welcome you stranger, please come in." He stood back to allow the person room. "Make yourself at home, please. If I may ask, what brings you out on such a night?"

A woman's voice spoke softly under the hood while handing the man a small parchment bearing Camelot's royal seal, "Is this the Abbey where King Constanus' son took his vows?"

"Yes it is. Father Constan passed into our Lord's graces many years ago, so if you are seeking his wisdom. I'm afraid you are much too late." Jonah took the letter and made a sign of reverence for the departed, yet inside he chuckled a little. He had met Father Constan a few years before the old man's passing and had been assigned to caring for the monk. Originally he had baulked at the idea – coming to the monastery to do God's work and spread the word, not to be a nurse-maid. It hadn't taken him long to warm up to the old man with laughing blue eyes.

"Pity," the voice spoke without emotion, "Did he leave any records behind of his family?"

Jonah felt a seed of fear taking root in his stomach as he noticed the seal had been messed with, "The holy brotherhood was his family, My Lady."

He crossed himself in dread as he felt the first tendrils of energy come from the visitor. Her hands moved to the cowl of her cloak and pushed it back slowly, her gray eyes seething with hatred. He barely had a moment to realize how much trouble his brotherhood was in before her hand shot out. Her eyes glowed with the inner fire of magic and he felt himself slammed against the wall. "Wrong. Answer." Were the only words he heard, before he blacked out.

(*~*~*~*)

He came to with the smell of smoke burning his lungs. Rain poured through the doors that barely hung on leather hinges, charred black with fire. He saw the woman that had entered earlier, dark hair matted and partially piled on her head. It was all Jonah could do to keep himself from moving or making a sound as a tall man in the armor of a Saxon joined her.

"Do you have what you seek from here, witch?" The barbarian asked impatiently.

The woman smiled coldly, "I do. One of the monks gave it up easily after seeing his brothers tortured. It appears Ambrosias had a son. Do what you will to this place. We need to make haste and set up an ambush on the road for Emrys and then we will find this son and make certain I am the only heir to Camelot." She walked out into the dark storm just before the flames engulfed the doorway and Jonah felt unconsciousness set in again.

(*~*~*~*)

The next day dawned, with horses and men packed tightly aboard the vessels and set sail. Deck hands hurried about, shoving the men of Camelot out of their way without apology as they cast off. The men and knights of Caerleon seemed to fit right in finding their sea legs naturally, either assisting in the hauling and rigging or find places below decks to stay out of the way. Oarsman grunted and heaved to the shanty man's rhythmic drumming as they pulled away from the coast.

Arthur could feel the shift in the ship as it caught into the current outside of the protected harbor. The drumming ceased and men began to yell back and forth repeating orders along the large water craft. The long paddles were drawn in and tied down. The call was given to hoist the sails and soon the shanty man began to sing, it didn't take long until most of the crew was singing along as they hauled the ropes, adjusted the boom and set the mainsail.

"Help me Bob I'm bully in the alley." The man would resonate out.

"Way, hey, bully in the alley," came the response from the crew.

"Sally is a girl that I loved dearly."

The chorus would call back, "Way, hey, bully in the alley."

"Sally is a girl that I spliced nearly."

"Bully down in shinbone AL!"

Percival looked into the sky, his eyes wide and head tipped back watching the men up high in the rigging. They moved through the ropes and crossbeams without fear as they worked and sang. "I don't think there is anything that could make me want that job."

"I could see Gwaine up there," Elyan commented.

"I could see sending Merlin up there," Arthur replied his lips quirking up in an evil grin.

He patted the larger man on the back with a laugh, although he would never admit that his own feelings mirrored Percival's. He relished in the cool spray of the sea as the wind and the ship cut through the water, he felt like he was flying as the coastline rushed by on the starboard side. The King looked around at his other knights. Most appeared to be faring quite well as the wind caught the sails and they began to speed along. Except Leon, who happened to be sitting on the fo'c'sle, staring at the deck - his face a very interesting shade of green.

It only seemed to make matters worse when, to the astonishment of the men from Camelot, a druid came on deck and stood near the helm. The man quietly sent a prayer in the words of the Old Religion and the wind picked up, catching the sailcloth and filling it with the air to speed them along.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Sir Leon?" Mordred asked, feeling a bit woozy himself, but nothing like his mentor.

Leon's face was pale as death, his blond curls plastered to the sides of his face as his cheeks puffed out and he retched over the side. He had never felt so sick in his life.

Mordred grabbed the knight's shoulders to keep him from falling overboard, but kept the boy kept his face turned away, trying not to be sick himself. As he assisted Sir Leon in sitting back down the older knight thanked him, wiping the edges of his mouth with a rag. He gladly accepted a waterskin from the boy. "Perhaps, just talk to me; tell me more about yourself, or something." He sat back, closing his eyes, willing the water he'd just swallowed to stay down.

The boy looked around a bit, his eyes widened, and he drew a breath nervously. "Uh, my father was a druid, as you know."

"And what of your mother, Was she a druid as well?"

"No, she was…I don't remember much of her from when I was younger. She sent me away to apprentice with my father when I was a child. I met her again a year or so after my father…" his voice trailed off. He took a deep breath of the sea cooled air. "She had been injured by a man; left disfigured, and was certain she was going to die. Her sister took her away from me soon after. I never got to see her again."

Leon could see the emotional wounds left from Mordred seeing his mother in such a state not so long after his father's death still pained the young man greatly. The dark haired young man, unconsciously began fiddling with a ring he wore on a cord about his neck, his eyes unfocused in the distance, a dark sense of foreboding clouding his features. "Did your mother give you that?" Leon asked venturing a guess. He disliked pressing the boy knight he'd taken under his wing, but Arthur's concern of him was valid and being a knight of Camelot always meant making sacrifices for the king. The elder knight was thankful, though he would never say out loud, that it was no longer Uther he served under.

Mordred looked down at his hand, fiddling with the ring, and quickly stuffed it back under his tunic. He simply nodded, obviously uncomfortable with talking about his mother. "Sorry, I keep it to remind myself of her. I know it's very un-knightly of me, but someday I had hoped to repay the man who scarred her, or at least I did, before King Arthur took me in." He looked up at Leon, and if the blond man didn't know better, he would have fallen for the act he could now see firmly in place with the boy.

Leon leaned forward and laid his hand on Mordred's shoulder in a fatherly manner, "I underst…" unfortunately that small movement was enough to remind Leon's body that it wasn't adapting to the rocking of the wooden ship underneath him and he soon found himself perched over the edge again. Arthur would just have to wait to find out the information he discovered when he caught the brief glimpse of the crest on Mordred's ring for now it was all Leon could do to keep from following his stomach contents overboard.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stop watching/listening to pirate songs while trying to write LOL "Let's have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry, and always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die!"
> 
> A huge thank you to my awesome husband and his nautical expertise for help with this part of the story. Fo'c'sle is pronounced folk-sill (or close to that) it's short for Forecastle.
> 
> We had a difficult time finding information on ships in the 6th century (other than the roman or norse or saxon vessels – but nothing truly English until later.) So, we went with ships from the 16th/17th century (modified to be a bit more rustic -Hey it's a fictional story and not everything in the show is period [most of the armor, weapons, and castles are medieval, not dark ages] or logistically accurate either it seems hehe)
> 
> Assuming good weather and tides the ships could make up to 7 knots speed, with about 150+miles of coast to clear – it would take aprox 25 hours to sail from Caerleon castle in modern day Newport around to the top of Llyn Pennisula anchoring near what is now Porthmadog. Riding 8-10 hours a day through all sorts of terrain and weather it could take over 3 weeks to get there from Camelot (I'm putting it somewhere near Cheltenham based loosely on the map provided at merlin wikia )- especially if it takes 3 days to get to Ealdor the way that map is drawn also since it is shown to the east and they talk about it being north (editing like that bugs me to no end). With Lot's castle somewhere near or slightly NW of Stoke-on-trent.


	11. Carnwenhau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first piece of Merlin's puzzle falls into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does get a bit descriptive about an injury at one point. Nothing you wouldn't see on TV14 (and sometimes even lower ratings).

_Emrys…_

Merlin's eyes shot open and he held his breath. He listened again for the voice. The sound of rain hitting the walls outside. An echo of dripping water telling of leaks in the roof above them. The soft hissing of dampness on the crackle of burning embers in the hearth. Wind whistling through trees in the valley, beyond that the low roar of waves crashing against the beachheads in the bay miles away. Gwaine softly snoring on his bedroll. Other than that – there was nothing.

His breath came out shaking and he tried to re-adjust, attempting to find some measure of comfort on the stone floor. Merlin couldn't remember dreaming of anything before he heard the voice calling to him, but that didn't always mean something wasn't there in his world. He tried to recall the voice, it was soft and feminine, almost sleepy and ghost-like in quality.

He listened for a while before sleep finally claimed him again.

They tallied a bit longer than they should have in the abandoned hill fort, waiting for the weather to clear. Merlin took the morning to explore around the ruins, the voice still echoing in his memory. Other than the ring of small stones inside the courtyard, he could find nothing but shadows of the people who used to inhabit the keep. It was a stroke of luck, among those ghosts that they found a few books and parchments hidden away under some rubble. Most of the pages eaten away by mildew and mice, but inside a metal scroll tube they found themselves a map of the region. It appeared that they wouldn't need to backtrack if they could keep to a nearly northern course, even in the mountainous region they could find their way to the village with the abbey, it might actually save them some time from going back down to the main road that wound around the south western side of the mountains.

It was late afternoon when Gwaine first spotted the inlet they had to cross to get to the monastery. He paused, dark eyes narrowing. Merlin came up behind him and stopped. "Look," Gwaine said pointing. The two men could see smoke rising from the remnants of a small hamlet. The wind shifted and they heard wailing of villagers in shock and mourning.

"We're too late. I should have listened to you yesterday, Gwaine. We should have turned around." The warlock stared at the carnage, guilt plaguing his being.

"No, don't think that way, mate. Let's go see if we can help now. There'll be time enough to assign blame later." The men rushed down across a bridge and reached the charred village. It was clear a massacre had taken place.

Most of the fires had been extinguished and the remaining townsfolk eyed the two strangers wearily. They offered to help, but found themselves turned down with suspicion. Amongst the debris they finally found the remains of the church. It was the worst hit building in town- obviously the epicenter of it all.

They reviewed the rubble somberly, suddenly Gwaine held up his hand, "Shh." They listened for a few moments when the knight heard the sound again, a low moan coming from the pile of ashes and debris. It didn't take the two men long to find the source near what once was the entrance to the abbey. Quickly they began to pull off the burnt wood and crumbling stones, soon uncovering a man underneath.

He was burnt over much of his body, heavy brown robes blackened and thread-bare; his facial features looked more like a creature than a man. Merlin gasped when he saw the monk. "Can you heal him?" Gwaine asked uneasy.

Merlin broke out of his shock and knelt beside the monk his mind switching into a detached healer mode, "If you can hear me, my name is Merlin. I'm going to try to help you; I can try to heal you with magic."

The man opened one eye, the other having been devastated by the flames. "No magic," he whispered roughly before biting back a scream of pain. He grasped at Merlin's coat, "Are you…from Camelot?" He asked. Merlin nodded and the dying man continued, "Ambrosias…dagger… in the tombs… for his heir. To Fat..father Constans. She didn't…get it. Forged by Angels. She knows…about…his son." The man cried out thrashing in Merlin's arms. Soon his grip on the warlock's jacket went slack, his hand falling to the ground and a rattling breath escaped him. He was still.

Merlin snapped his eyes shut; death like this was never acceptable in his book. He attempted to wipe away the tears that were forming. He felt Gwaine's steady presence behind him. "What did he say?" The knight asked softly.

The warlock took a breath to steady himself and found the place of calm determination that always lifted him through situations like this. "We have to find the tombs." He quickly explained his interpretation of the dying monk's words.

"His heir would be Arthur, then?"

"He also said something about a son."

"Come on then, there's nothing more we can do for him. Let's find the tombs and get out of here."

It didn't take the two men long to find the burial chambers just up the hill behind the monastery. It was far enough out that in the dark Morgana and her barbarians wouldn't have noticed it. So it was left untouched. No one from the village paid the two men any heed as they headed towards it. A quick magical word from Merlin and they were in.

They cautiously worked their way through the alcoves and stone sarcophagi searching for the one baring Father Constans remains. About half-way down the second hall Merlin stopped, his eyes going unfocused and he swayed a bit.

"You ok?" Gwaine asked with concern.

Suddenly Merlin appeared to snap back into himself. "It's this way," He spoke with a surety the knight rarely heard out of his friend. Soon they were in front of the stone coffin they were searching for. After some grunting they managed to push aside the cover, decay and dust escaped into the air causing the men to cough and blink. Lying in the coffin was the skeletal remains of Father Constans and folded in his hands, a dagger.

The blade was made of a darkened metal, cast with runes that shined like liquid silver, the hilt a white opalescence that Merlin instinctively knew was dragon bone. He stared at the dagger, caught in its rapture. His eyes glowed and time slowed around him as he watched the torchlight dance across the weapon. "Carnwenhau," the whispered name came to his lips like that of a long lost friend, from somewhere deep inside his soul as he reached in to pick it up.

As soon as his hand touched it, Merlin heard a soft click and a hissing sound, he looked up, still held in his own space of slowed time and saw the blocks of stone on the ceiling begin to fall. He had a brief moment to realize if it wasn't for his special ability the two of them would have already been crushed. He thrust a nearly frozen Gwaine out of the way as he jumped aside. About mid-way through his flight he lost the connection and felt time shift back.

"Bloody Hell!" Gwaine exclaimed, coughing and sputtering against the cloud of dust from the cave in. "What was that?"

Merlin chuckled, "Oh just me, saving your life."

Gwaine looked at Merlin, his eyes narrowed, brows pinched, and mouth in a grimace. Then he looked back at where they had been standing what seemed like an instant ago. His facial features smoothed out and all he could say was, "Oh."

Merlin then held up the dagger and they both smiled.

(*~*~*~*)

They walked along in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the carnage they witnessed in the village. Merlin's mind also preoccupied with the dagger obviously meant for Arthur. This time they kept to the road leading southeast around the mountains, near mid-day Merlin began feeling a tugging sensation in the back of his mind. He motioned Gwaine off the path. They followed alongside the road, keeping it in sight, but hidden away in the trees and undergrowth. Soon they heard voices ahead of them.

Creeping along in the brushes and ferns they came upon the source.

Gwaine made a soft sound of disgust as he spied Morgana and at least twenty Saxons. "They will have to come along this road and we will stop them when they do! How hard can that be?" She barked out as she paced with her typical frantic madness. "This is the only usable road between Lot's kingdom and the village." She blasted back the man who obviously challenged her plan, and he fell in a heap at the base of a tree.

Merlin was having a difficult time keeping his fury in check; he fingered the hilt of the newly acquired dagger ready to rush down and take the witch out then and there. He could feel the magic in the dagger vibrating as if it knew of Morgana's evil. Suddenly a rider appeared from the opposite direction, bowing to Morgana as he dismounted. "King Lot's army is about a day's ride east of the river."

"What of the men we are looking for?"

"There was no sign anyone else had been on the road, M'Lady."

She stopped, her shoulders shaking with each breath before she let out with a scream of frustration. "THEY CAN'T HAVE JUST DISAPPEARED!"

The one Morgana blasted earlier had regained his senses and stood before her, ready to defy her again either very brazen or stupid. "It seems the subjects of your wrath may have tucked their tails and run back to Camelot. There has been no sign of them anywhere along the way. We need to hurry across the river and follow the mountains north to meet with Sunna before our only way is blocked." The other barbarians stood tense behind him, looking ready to rush the witch if she disagreed.

Merlin could feel the power pulsing around her and he started to rise, intent on confronting her. He didn't hear the sound behind them, or notice when Gwaine stiffened beside him. In fact he almost lashed out at his companion when the knight began patting his elbow. "What?!" He spat angrily, turning towards Gwaine. It was then he noticed his friend was looking behind them instead of at the ambush point. Merlin turned and gasped, "Aithusa!"

The young dragon looked only slightly healthier than the last time Merlin had come face to face with her in Ismere. She was crouched above them on a rock like a cat, ready to pounce on the men. He moved himself in between her and Gwaine, shielding the knight, Morgana and the men below pushed to the back of his mind. Merlin began speaking to her in a language Gwaine couldn't begin to understand. "Aithusa, stási̱ káto̱.[1]"

Aithusa emitted a low growling sound as Merlin continued to talk to her, his voice low and breathy but a power behind it like Gwaine had never felt. "éla mou paidí, as mou epoulo̱thoún [2]" The white dragon eyed him curiously and seemed to be calmed by Merlin's presence. The Dragonlord reached out a tentative hand. "Epitrépoun mou na voí̱theia eseís kai ektós kai apó o vasanistí̱rio o mágissa échei gínetai."[3]

Aithusa suddenly hissed angrily, teeth barred and snapped at Merlin's appendage. She jumped off the rock and took the sky, looking to get as far away from the dark-haired man as she possibly could.

"Well that didn't seem to go to well," Gwaine commented with a loud gulp.

Merlin stared after the dragon, a look of shock on his face. "She is supposed to obey me when I speak in her tongue," he whispered in disbelief watching her land over near Morgana and the Saxons. His chest felt tight seeing the dragon child rub against Morgana seeking the comfort of the sorceress. He flopped back down in the ferns dejectedly.

Gwaine cast his friend a curious glance, then turned back to watching the barbarians, his sword drawn and ready if the dragon somehow told Morgana of their presence. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them packing up. The raven-haired woman scanned the area, her hand absently petting the nervous dragon and then moved out with the troops.

"Well, we obviously missed some of their conversation," Gwaine commented with a hint of sarcasm. Merlin didn't seem to hear. The knight nudged him and received no response. "Come on, Merlin. You look like you just lost a child."

"I did," Merlin whispered, his eyes glazed over, staring straight ahead into nothing.

"What?" Gwaine asked thoroughly confused.

Merlin finally blinked as wetness began filling his crystal eyes. He swallowed hard against the pain in his heart. "Do you remember when we went to retrieve the dragon egg?"

The knight nodded. Due to being drugged, Gwaine and the others arrived outside the tower just as it was collapsing, "It wasn't destroyed, was it?" He stated more than asked.

"I saved the egg. It was Aithusa." He stood up and began ranting, "She's supposed to obey me! I named her; I summoned her from the egg. I'm supposed to be a Dragonlord, and I failed her!"

Gwaine quickly pulled his friend back down, "Come on, let's head back to that keep. I don't think you're in any condition to face Morgana if we met her on the road."

Merlin reluctantly agreed, thankful for the strength of his friend. Even with his magic, it would be a tough fight with just him and Gwaine against Morgana, Aithusa, and a host of twenty men. His hand grasped Carnwenhau's hilt knowing that they needed to get back to Arthur soon.

(*~*~*~*)

It was well after dark when they reached the keep, once again Merlin felt a sense of homecoming as he entered through the fallen gate. They found the room from a couple nights before and settled in for the night. It was very late in the morning and the sun was high in the sky when they finally awoke to the sounds of horses and men echoing up the knoll from the valley below. Gwaine stood immediately and made his way up to the turret, Merlin following close on his heels.

A low growl-like sound escaped Gwaine as he spied the banners and troops moving through the meadow below. The golden double headed Griffin on a field of purple. The commander of the army called a halt in the vale just a bit downstream from the lake. Servants and squires rushed around unpacking wagons with tents and supplies. It was obvious to the two observers that Lot's forces meant to make camp in the clearings outside of the forest. The ground was rocky and uneven; some of the tents being set up on the hills surround the chosen war camp.

"Great! We go one way and find a sorceress, and this way it's a bloody family reunion." Gwaine remarked, his voice dripping with cynicism.

"Unless we sneak down the backside of the hill and head to the mountain, I don't see any way around this," Merlin was emotionally exhausted, his sleep the night before plagued with nightmares of Aithusa, Morgana, and the new dagger.

"We don't have the supplies or gear to make a mountain trek," He glanced at Snowdon in the distance, its ice covered peak hidden among the low clouds.

Merlin chuckled softly, "Well, you could just go talk to him."

Gwaine glared at Merlin. He licked his lips and shook his head, "This ought to be fun!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Aithusa, stand down
> 
> 2\. Come my child, let me heal
> 
> 3\. Allow me to help you and save you from the torment the witch has done.
> 
> I am sure my googled version of Homeric Greek Translations is seriously lacking in proper grammar and well anyone of Greek origins is probably scratching their heads thinking WTF? SO- I would appreciate any assistance in cleaning up my badly translated Dragon language.
> 
> Carnwenhau - is in the Arthurian welsh legends as a magical dagger.
> 
> As always any comments and reviews are more than appreciated!


	12. Somebody that I used to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin looks familiar to Lot and Mordred's betrayal becomes apparent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few possible versions of King Lot from the Arthurian legends. I picked Lot of Orkney because it felt right for this story – hence the reference to the Norse origins, and also his brother Urien in a previous chapter.  
>  (this chapter is direct repost from my ff net account without edits - I just feel like I need to get this story caught up on here to where it is on that site. If you see any errors don't hesitate to shoot me a msg about it.)

_Shhhhwwwt_

_Shhhhhhhwwtt_

The sound of the whetstone across a blade had always been a comfort for him. It was meditative to sit in his tent and make certain each edge was as fine as it could be. He had servants and a squire that could have done the job efficiently enough, yet this task was something he enjoyed, always had, since he was boy. Oh how long ago that was, he thought. Back when he was strong and full of life battling against the Romans, the Saxons and the Picts after he and his brothers left Orkney to seek out their own fame. Joining forces with a man whose father was the self-proclaimed Roman Emperor of Albion and a mother who hailed from a minor king of Lot's own Norse ancestry. A time when he was at the head of the vanguards- soon commanding thousands of his own troops, instead of now relegated to an area that served for a last stand while his own son served as general for the main front against the oncoming barbarians. Yet, being out here in the field served Lot much better than trying to find sinful pleasures to pass the time inside his castle walls.

"Your Grace," his squire called softly from outside the tent flaps, hesitant to disturb the king.

Lot sighed and set down the stone on his desk. He looked over his blade examining it for any imperfections. He was nearly seventy years old; he could feel the age settling into his bones. He mused at how he ended up in the same place where nearly fifty years ago he helped secure his place in Albion.

"Your Majesty?" The boy called again a bit louder.

"Enter," he finally responded, his eyes never leaving the sword. He slowly ran his thumb along the sharpened blade as the boy came in, bowing low before the king. He looked nervous and Lot briefly wondered if he had acted as skittish when he was a squire, then he pushed the thought away, it was too long ago to be concerned with such musings.

"Your Grace, the two prisoners, who escaped from the castle are outside. They came in willingly and have requested an audience with you."

Lot's eyebrow rose slightly, but his gaze did not shift. "Is Prince Gareth with them?"

The squire glanced up then quickly cast his eyes back down, "No, Your Grace."

"Hmph," Lot had suspected of his youngest son's part in helping the two escape. His schooled features gave no hint of surprise finding out that Gareth was not with them. "Bring them in."

Gwaine and the servant were escorted into the tent at sword point. Lot carefully sheathed his sword, setting it to the side; he dismissed the guards and spent a moment appraising the men in front of him. His grandson dressed like a rogue and swaggered like a pirate, although named as a knight- his demeanor was anything but. The manservant of King Arthur, which previously Lot had dismissed without thought, stood a step behind his grandson. Now, however the elderly king took his time in assessing the raven headed young man. A sense of vague familiarity touched in Lot's mind, although he couldn't seem to put his finger on it…until he saw the dagger on the servant's belt. A slight smile twitched at the corner of the old man's mouth. The last time he had seen it was in this very valley five decades ago.

"Where is my son?" Lot finally asked, looking to his grandson for the answer.

"How the hell should I know?" Gwaine shrugged, not expecting that to be the first question from King Lot.

A twinkle of amusement crept into the old eyes, the dark honey brown color standing out against the grayed eyebrows. Lot reached for his wine goblet, he was thoroughly enjoying watching Gwaine's lips twitch under his mustache, the heavy brown eyebrows shifting as his grandson's every thought played out in that face. He could see some of the movements being purposefully misdirecting – he made a note to never play cards with his grandson, the young man was just like his mother that way.

"Let me tell you my theory. My son Gareth felt peculiarly compelled to honor his estranged sister by setting her son free. Somehow in this, you convinced him to ride to Camelot in your place. Oh don't look so shocked, I have eyes in many places, I know the direction he traveled." Lot watched the reactions of both men. He took another sip of wine, "Once within Camelot's borders the young king Arthur probably seized the advantage of Gareth's kind heart and took him hostage, not unlike his oath-breaker father would have done."

"Arthur is nothing like his father!" The dark-haired man spoke up quickly, emotion filling his voice as he defended his king.

"I see," Lot's eyes narrowed. The old king sat his goblet down, stood up, and walked over to Merlin. Staring him in the eye, he asked pointedly, "Tell me, boy, are you your father's son?"

Gwaine watched the exchange, feeling that something deeper was going on in his grandfather's mind. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Uther took an oath under his brother the High King to join our kingdoms by promising to marry my daughter. He became impatient after Ambrosias died and wed that fair Du Bois girl instead, among many other severed vows. I have since heard of a few occasions where his son broke similar promises and eventually married that serving girl. She must be quite the prize."

Merlin stiffened, biting his tongue. They were only here because they felt it was the only option, now he wondered if he and Gwaine had walked into some sort of trap.

"Do you know who your father is, boy?" Lot asked, his dark eyes boring into Merlin's as he waited for the warlock to nod, "So, I ask you again- are you  _your_  father's son?"

Merlin's breath caught in his throat, intimidated by the way the old man poised the question to him. He swallowed down his anxiety and answered plainly, "I am." His mind raced trying to figure out Lot's motive. Since meeting Balinor Merlin had always hoped to be like his father, and Gaius had commented once how alike in spirit they were.

"Good, as he was his father's I'm sure. Swear to me, on your father's name you are certain Arthur Pendragon is not like his father?"

"Did you know my father?" Merlin asked hesitantly feeling a hint of courage coming back to him. Lot smiled, his eyes full of hidden secrets, and shrugged. Finally Merlin took a breath, standing up straight, "I swear on Balinor's name, Arthur is nothing like Uther."

Merlin was stunned when Lot let out with laugh. He clapped Merlin on the shoulder, his demeanor completely different from the lecherous old tyrant they met in the castle a couple weeks back. "Squire!" The boy came in and bowed.

"Take this man, be sure he is cleaned and fed properly. Also, see that he has some better clothes as befits my grandson's traveling companion." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the squire and Merlin. "We will converse later, son of Balinor. For now, I wish to speak to my grandson alone."

Gwaine looked back and forth between them, "Did I miss something?"

Merlin shrugged, his face betraying the confusion he felt over Lot's cryptic questions. "I guess we'll find out later," he told his friend with a half-smile. The warlock gave a curt bow to King Lot before following the squire outside, relieved to be out of the tent. For now, Gwaine could take care of himself.

Once alone, Lot sat back down and then waved his hand offering a seat near him to Gwaine. "Have some wine." He motioned to a cup and vessel on a small table between them. "The last time I saw you, you were but a child of fourteen. I offered then to answer your questions and give you a home within my walls. Sadly, you weren't ready to listen."

"I'm listening now, old man." The rogue prince sat back and drained his cup.

(*~*~*~*)

The ships looked trivial anchored far out in the bay. The sailors and soldiers had their hands full transporting supplies to the beach. Horses were lead into the water and tied to the aft of the small dingy's where they followed, swimming to the shore.

The Knights of Camelot had been among the first to set foot back on land. Waiting for them was a herald bearing King Lot's standard. Arthur went at once to speak with the man while the rest waited patiently.

"I see, thank you." Arthur finished with the herald and made his way back to his knights.

Prince Gareth held out his arm to Arthur, "I'll head to my father straight-away and inform him of your arrival personally, if that's alright."

Arthur smiled genuinely, "It is, thank you Prince Gareth for coming with us this far. We shall see you this evening perhaps?"

Gareth nodded and turned to catch up with his father's man. As the men from Caerleon came onshore they began setting up camps and drying off the horses.

"Well, we're saved a few days of traveling as Sir Gwaine and Merlin are up in Lot's camp." He noticed Mordred's eyes widen in anger with the news. Arthur couldn't say he was surprised by the response. Leon's seasickness had subsided during the night after some sleep, and although still woozy, he had been able to convey to the king his discovery. Arthur schooled his features, trying not letting his emotions show. "You are shocked by this, Sir Mordred of the house of Gorlois. Did you think they wouldn't be alive by the time we reached here?"

Leon stood behind Mordred; he placed a steady hand on the boy's shoulder. "I saw the ring and the crest it bore. What you told me about your mother, well it all made sense then. I wish there was another way." The other knights turned to study Mordred. Most displaying looks of shock and horror that one of their own, a boy they had taken in so fondly, would betray them.

Mordred said nothing, his mouth moved, but no sound came out as his brain raced to catch up with the words of his King and his mentor.

"You don't deny it then?" Arthur continued when he realized no answer was forthcoming, "Tell me,  _was_  the sorceress Morgause your mother, is that the reason for it? Is that the reason, Mordred, you would betray Camelot and me?"

Mordred finally found his voice, "Arthur, I am loyal to  _you_ , Your Majesty. You saved my life and I could not begin to repay you," He begged. "The warlock Emrys, the one you call Merlin, destroyed my mother and left her viciously scarred. Then that witch Morgana, who calls herself a priestess, used my mother's blood to rip the worlds apart! Everything I do is to protect you, My Lord, from  _them_!" Mordred's breath came heavy and uneven. His pale blue eyes wild and pleading as he watched the men he called brothers reluctantly draw their swords. He felt Leon's hand tighten on his shoulder.

Arthur's stared for a moment; he could feel that Mordred believed the words he spoke. However, they were going to war with Morgana and the Saxon's, Annis's words rang in his ears. He knew he didn't have time to question the boy's motives currently, Arthur allowed his eyes to harden into the stoic gaze of a warrior, and he refused to let himself look away, though it broke his heart to have to do what was needed. He nodded once then gave the order, "When we return to Camelot, you will be given a fair trial. Take him prisoner."

The knights began to move forward at the behest of their king. Mordred's gaze darted around nervously at his brothers-in-arms, some of them showing reluctance and confusion over what the boy had said about Merlin, yet even so, they still moved to apprehend the boy. They didn't get the chance to take Mordred before they were all violently thrown back off their feet as the druid let out with an inhuman scream.

Annis's men came running to their aid, but by the time they reached the knights, the boy was already gone. They began helping the knights of Camelot to their feet.

"Shall we go after him, My Lord?" One of the knights asked Arthur.

The King stood, his ears ringing from the blast as he tried to squelch down the feelings of this latest treachery.

"Did anyone see which way he went?" Elyan asked to all the men. They all looked between each other, coming to the conclusion that the boy had seemingly disappeared.

Leon sat up, waving off a sailor offering to assist him to standing. "Forgive me, Sire. I…" Leon started, feeling the heaviness of guilt and betrayal since he was the young knight's mentor. Arthur brushed it aside.

"No." The King said with an air of finality, "We leave him for now. Let's get the horses ready and head to the main camp to regroup with Merlin and Sir Gwaine." The King looked between his three core knights and could read their thoughts mirrored in his own. Without Merlin- facing a magic user with that power was suicide.

Long shadows fell across the vales with the late afternoon sun by the time they were ready to head to King Lot's war camp. "Sire, I would suggest we stay off of the main path, just in case," Percival came up and spoke softly to Arthur.

"Agreed, even detouring a bit it shouldn't take us more than a couple of hours to reach Lot." Arthur, Elyan, Leon, Percival and two other knights rode along through the trees, leaving the rest under the command of Queen Annis. Arthur spoke to her briefly as she came off the ship, the spectacle caused by Mordred already making a stir through the sailors and soldiers. Although concerned, Arthur assured her that the boy was never made privy to any of the actual battle plans – which still had yet to be finalized under the command of King Lot.

Twilight was deepening into night,as they rode along in the trees, the moon reflecting off the growing fog that was sweeping its way up from the sea. Arthur heard his knights as they bantered with each other. He held up his hand for silence. Not too far ahead of them he saw something that made his heart sink. Soon he was off his horse and running on foot through a thick copse of trees.

  



	13. Welcome to your life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally catches up to Merlin, only to be taken on a metaphysical side trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again direct repost from ff net without edits There are some inconsistencies I let slip from Chapter 2 concerning the name of one of Uther's older brother. Ambrosius Aurelianus or Aurelius Ambrosius
> 
> They are in fact the same person – my mistake came when researching I would just use his name as I had most recently seen it and neglected how I had previously used it. Likewise, I have been using the spelling Ambrosias instead (due to my spellchecker saying that one is correct – Which I realize is now the plural form of ambrosia – the food of the gods *facepalm*)

Merlin was waiting just across from the opening, sitting on a bale of hay. He felt more refreshed than he had in months. The clothes provided were definitely a few steps above that of a simple servant and most notably cleaner than what he'd been wearing. He had argued with the squire initially. "You are not a servant; His Majesty specifically called you a 'traveling companion'. These are the clothes afforded that station." Merlin was left dumbfounded, wondering what exactly King Lot knew about him, or possibly about Balinor. He'd never been on the receiving end of being waited on, and it left him overwhelmed. Now after a bit of pampering courtesy of King Lot he'd been given the opportunity to see it in a polished metal reflector.

Since starting on the journey from Camelot Merlin hadn't taken the opportunity to shave, simply for the curiosity of wanting to know what he would look like with a beard before he was eighty years old and gray. Gwaine at first laughed about it and teased him to no end until Merlin pointed out just how shaggy the self-proclaimed ladies' man appeared.

The squire called in another man who offered to trim it up. Merlin bit back his initial rejection and simply nodded. In a short time he was certain that he and Gwaine would be back in Camelot and this treatment would once again be out of his reach. So he enjoyed what he could and the man he saw in the mirrored surface was something to be proud of, except for Hunith's eyes, he was looking at his father and he realized if Lot really had known Balinor, there was certainly no mistaking Merlin as his son. He knew he would have to press the king for the promised conversation.

Gwaine came out of King Lot's tent an hour or so later with a sullen air about him. Merlin walked silently next to him as the knight made his way to a practice dummy that had been set up near the edge of the camp. He waited for his friend to make some mischievous comment about his new look.

The knight however was in his own world and barely acknowledged the warlock. He withdrew his sword, a scowl crossing his features; with a primal war cry he began beating the human shaped bag of straw with all his might. Clearly realizing his friend's need for space, Merlin wandered off to explore more of the land surrounding the camp.

Over a small hill, he felt it, just as he reached a thick tree line. The sacredness, the old religion, a feeling he once feared when he approached such areas, now gave the warlock a sense of peace. He knew the lake would lie down a path to his right, but he allowed his instincts to follow a game trail venturing to the left, closer to the magic.

The wind through the trees seemed to sing, branches and leaves dancing to the nightly tune. The moon already high above in the late evening twilight was playing a game of peek-a-boo through hazy light clouds. Merlin allowed his senses to take over, and everything around him appeared to slow down. He gasped in wonderment, his eyes widening. The colors of the night seemed vivid and alive, Fae folk moved through the forest and they shone with an unearthly beauty in a rainbow of colors. Unlike the Sidhe of Avalon they felt serene and tranquil. Each breath Merlin took filled him with a giddy child-like energy.

He caught a different type of movement from the corner of his eye, yet as soon as he turned towards it, it was gone. Merlin allowed his power to reach out towards the area he saw it, and he felt presence of another person. Time shifted back to the normal speed of life, he grinned like an imp and followed deeper into the trees. Running and jumping over deadfall and shrubbery, ferns were pulled aside by tiny hands of the fairies as he passed. Chasing the presence like a hunter after a prized game, catching glimpses of the shadowed form in a dark cloak ahead of him

Through the undergrowth he spied a clearing and finally found her. At first he stopped, fighting down an initial spike of fear. The figured had pushed back the hood of her cloak. For a moment, Merlin thought he was looking at the girl who he had once called friend, now foe, standing outside a ring of stones. As she turned he began to notice the differences and his pulse quieted, the tension had broken his splendor from the run, but he still could touch the remnants with in his core.

Her dark hair full and braided into intricate patterns as it hung over her shoulders. Her eyes a much darker green, the woman's face showing lines of seeing many more years than Morgan and her smile soft, pleasant and matronly. Her beauty, even with age, was apparent. Her power well controlled and balanced. Merlin allowed his mind to wander, 'this is what Morgana could have been.'

"Hello, Emrys. I have been waiting for you. Come and join me." She bade him, smiling pleasantly.

He nodded, biting down the natural suspicion rising in him and slowly walked up next to the woman. Merlin stopped short; his features went slack as he felt the power of the place. Large moss covered stones marked the quarters, while smaller less intrusive ones filled in between them, ringing the circle. A small basin in the center sat in a depression on the ground, not unlike the pedestals Merlin had seen others use for scrying, just smaller and level with the forest floor, instead of lifted above it to a comfortable viewing height. It seemed much more natural than the others, at one with the surroundings.

"This is the Grove of Magicians, many councils have met here in years long past. It is filled with the energy of the world around us. Unlike the cave where magic began that displayed images unique to you and your future, this place holds the spirits of the past. The trees here are old and wise." She placed a hand on a nearby rowan tree, as if it were a dear friend, "they will show you what you need to know. You need only ask them to guide you."

"Who are you?"

The lady smiled, looking deep into Merlin's eyes, "I believe you have already guessed the answer. I am sure you have many other questions, which will all be answered in due time. First though, you must decide if you wish to enter the circle and open your mind to what the trees wish to show you. Destiny is coming together as it wont to do, and it will happen if you pass through here or not."

Merlin looked to the grove; he closed his eyes and found the place inside his heart that helped to guide his actions if he allowed himself to listen. When he opened his eyes he had come to a decision, cautiously he stepped across the stones into the circle.

(*~*~*~*)

"Have you seen Merlin?" Gwaine asked one of the guards outside his grandfather's tent. His hair hung in limp sweat-soaked clumps as he drank from a water skin waiting for the man to answer.

The guard raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

Gwaine almost threw the skin at the man in frustration, "The… 'servant' that was with me." He snapped.

The squire was coming by with a tray of food meant for the king, "I think I saw him head over that hill, probably going to the lake, just before you beheaded the straw man."

"Thanks mate!" Gwaine started to head out.

"Hey," The squire called out. Gwaine turned as the boy sat down the tray and threw him a purple cloak, "Don't want you to get a chill out there, sire." The knight nodded his thanks and snickered, wondering what Arthur would think if he was caught wearing the purple of Lothian instead of Camelot reds. But a cloak was a cloak, and beggars, even if they were formerly estranged princes, couldn't be choosers.

The sweat not fully dry, he was more than thankful for the thick cloth around his shoulders as he crested the hill. Without the shelter of the tents and surrounding rocks, the wind would surely have given him a chill. Gwaine could see the path that others had been taking to the lake and followed it until he reached the edge of the tree line. As an experienced tracker his mind unconsciously processed clues along his route, so it didn't escape his notice when a familiar set of tracks broke from the main path onto a game trail.

Dusk had begun to gather into nightfall, an evening fog rolling slowly through the trees, when he caught sight of Merlin. He paused, confusion passing over his face as he saw his friend step across a line of stones.

Unsure of the situation, he called to Merlin. When the warlock didn't even turn Gwaine ran the last few yards to reach them. As he neared the edge, the lady stepped in Gwaine's path, "This journey into the Grove is not meant for you. But as all coins have three sides – the head, the tail, and the outer rim that strengthens the two – so are you the edge that binds this circle. I saved you once, before you were even born, I am unsure if I could do so again if you were to enter the grove at this time. Emrys needs your strength outside the ring if he is to learn what he desires to from this. "

The knight gaped at the appearance of the woman; this wasn't the first time his strength had been requested by a stranger when it came to his friend. Although he hadn't heard anyone openly refer to Merlin as 'Emrys', in the public house, listening to Percival's story it had been implied, but Gwaine never thought it relevant to ask Merlin directly. Her comment about saving the roguish knight before he was born didn't seem to bother him as much as he thought it should. This entire adventure had been full of surprises.

"Hey," he called out again his eyes never leaving the priestess, "Merlin!" No response came, and Gwaine glanced quickly towards the circle. He could see the warlock sway as he walked. He prepared to push his way past the old woman and was stopped in his tracks by what she said next.

"Be patient young warrior, for courage will be soon in arriving."

Gwaine's brow furrowed in confusion and he quickly glanced down at his sword, breathing a sigh of relief that it remained hard steel, instead of flowers. He stepped back and impatiently watched as the lady began casting a spell. One by one candle's on each of the stones lit up until a single rock across from them was left without a flame.

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin felt it almost instantly - the life, the vibrating hum of the earth and all its connections; the forests, the rocks, the oceans of the world, pulsing, thrumming. Lands yet unexplored, mountains so high the peaks never revealed beyond the clouds, creatures that looked terrifying and yet acted so calm. Each blade of grass, every leaf that ever graced the branches of a tree, they all strung together in a web of energy thriving, seeking for a place in the circle.

His breath escaped him in a nearly orgasmic moan, hands clenching, willing himself to stay present in the moment as he opened his mind, allowing the power to flow through him, instead of fighting it as he had done so many times in the past. His head wobbled as he kept pushing himself to the center. Eyelids fluttering, as the magic bore down on him it nearly overwhelmed the young warlock. Merlin felt his knees buckle; he put out his arms to try and steady himself. His bare hand was all the connection needed to complete the circle and he was gone, traveling through the land, a part of it and the history it held secret. Distantly he heard someone calling his name, but the pull was too strong, it's feeling so gentle and warm, Merlin happily let himself go.

(*~*~*~*)

"MERR-LINN!" Arthur screamed as he jumped off his horse and ran across the unlit marker stone from the opposite direction into the Grove. His knights following close on his heels, only to be brought up short as the last candle sparked to life and a barrier of magic formed in front of them. Arthur felt like he was suddenly immersed in water, the pressure of the air inside the circle pressing against him. All he saw was his friend swaying like a drunken idiot and falling to his knees in the sacred grove before passing out. The air squeezed out of Arthur's lungs making it hard for him to breath. Gravity pulling his feet stronger, forcing the exertion in every step to become greater, his head felt like it was ready to implode by the time he nearly reached his friend. He drew from his years of training as a knight to pull him through the last few feet. One thought, as a mantra racing in his mind, he had to get Merlin out. Arthur extended his hand, grasping that of his fallen comrade, and then he too was whisked into oblivion.

 


	14. Story of our fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin get a view of their shared past that they never expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> repost without edits. If you see anything please let me know.  
> I'm pretty sure some of the titles/nobility stuff is wrong. So I will try to get those fixed later, but would certainly appreciate any help on the subject. Thanks!

Leon hit the barrier first and was flung back; he stood immediately and drew his sword, his eyes wide looking for any break in the shield's defense. They narrowed maliciously spying movement from the other side, fearing it might be Mordred. He silently motioned to the rest of the group that they needed to split up - Elyan and two knights with him, Percival and the remaining knights around the other side of the grove. Leon hoped the figure he saw wouldn't be smart enough to realize he was being flanked. Creeping along as fast as he dared he came to the other side, his sword ready to strike down the spell-caster.

The clang of steel broke the silence, Leon's arm stung from the force of his blade being stopped by another when he had expected to hit flesh.

"It's about bloody time you guys got here!" Gwaine stated happily, lowering his sword, his arm shaken slightly from taking the blow. He looked around and mentally counted the knights coming upon him from the forest.

Leon stood back, nostrils flaring, "What is the meaning of this Sir Gwaine? Arthur lies, possibly dead in the middle of a clearing and you are protecting the spell caster keeping him there!" He pointed his sword at the woman menacingly. Thankful it wasn't the boy or Morgana, but apprehensive none the less.

The lady chuckled softly, "They both entered the circle of free will and they will come back out the same way, just perhaps a bit wiser."

"I'm sure the princess is fine, mate. So is Merlin, who if you failed to notice, is in there with him. Look, I don't know what's happening, but my gut tells me it's something that needs to be done." He explained vaguely, he held himself in a light fighting stance just in case the others refused to listen to his obscure reasoning.

The other knights looked on in suspicion, waiting for a better explaination. With the magical shield still in place, they couldn't reach the king or Merlin, and being patient was not a known trait for the Knights of Camelot. Gwaine cast a glance at the two bodies that lay unmoving in the grove. He prayed they would wake up soon; he hated trying to explain things. The priestess's eyes twinkled, wondering how he planned to talk his way out of this situation.

**(*~*~*~*~*)**

Darkness surrounded them, no ground, no sky, and no trees. They weren't inside anywhere either, no walls, floor, or ceiling. There weren't any light sources either, yet the two men could see each other perfectly well. Merlin appeared to accept the situation with a deep understanding; Arthur on the other hand stood gasping for breath, his eyes wide and fearful.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked with a calm curiosity.

"Me? What the hell do you think you're doing here? Where in the bloody hell are we?" he yelled at the warlock.

Merlin shrugged, "I entered the sacred grove, and this is where it brought me."

The peacefulness in his companions demeanor gave the king strength to steady himself and regain a small measure of his composure. "You just can't help yourself, can you? God, Merlin, you are such an idiot. Not a lick of sense, just running into places controlled by who knows what…"

Merlin pursed his lips, barely holding back his amusement. His eyebrows rose as he watched Arthur rant.

"What is it you find so humorous?" Arthur bit out through clenched teeth.

Laughter burst from him, "Really? YOU of all people are trying to tell ME it's not safe to run into these situations?" he gestured to himself and decided if Arthur was determined to give Merlin the same council he typically gave to the king, then Arthur deserved to hear the same words Merlin typically received in response. "Trust me."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, dark with misgivings; he stuck his finger in Merlin's face. "Fine, but just this…" he barely caught himself. "Oh to hell with it, I trust you." His acceptance, however reluctant, was all the magic needed to continue.

The void faded away around them. Arthur's hand went automatically for his sword; he was shocked and threw his arms up in disgust when he realized it wasn't there.

Images pulsed around them, brief glimpses of past events from each other's lives over the years. Mostly of Merlin tailing people like Agravaine and Morgana through Camelot, a few times he used spells to make sure Arthur didn't die and other images, all fleeting by so quickly that left Arthur questioning his own mortality.

A forest filled in around them, daylight streaming through the branches overhead, a stream nearby. Arthur saw himself, quite a few years back, using a stick to bash ferns and grass around the area they had decided to set up camp.

The king raised his eyebrow at Merlin, who seemed completely entranced by the scene, "You know where this is?" He asked completely lost as to why they were watching this forest somewhere in their past.

Merlin nodded, his eyes misting, he more than recognized the place. Before he got a chance to answer he saw himself walking towards them, picking up a stick, evaluating it and tossing it back to the ground.

_"This wood's too wet." His younger self said to another man that followed not far behind._

_"Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find a way to make it light."_

"Isn't that the Dragonlord? What was his name again?" Arthur tapped his index finger across his lips trying to recall it.

"Balinor," Merlin drew a heavy breath, clenching his teeth he silently cursing at Arthur for not remembering. "His name was Balinor."

_"When you healed Arthur, I heard you mumble some words." Young Merlin looked up at the older man, hope in his eyes._

_Balinor replied, "An ancient prayer."_

_Merlin's face fell, "I thought it might've been more than that."_

_"The Old Religion can teach us many things." The Dragonlord said evenly._

"Can they see us, or hear us?" The king questioned.

"No, I don't think so." Merlin said softly.

Arthur noticed that his servant wasn't even watching the scene anymore. He studied his companion, Merlin had his eyes closed tightly, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He looked so different from the servant that left Arthur's side weeks ago. He looked almost noble, the gangly awkwardness gone, and in its place a stately man – with facial hair. The king made a note to inquire about Merlin's shaving habits later.

_"You mentioned...You spoke of Ealdor. You took refuge with a woman." The two in the vision now stood speaking, no longer gathering the wood._

_"That was a long time ago." Balinor said with a hint of sadness._

Arthur squinted watching the man and his servant converse. A realization began dawning on him as he saw for the first time, the similarities in the two men. He turned and watched the warlock beside him, his heart heavy.

_"Yes. She's my mother."_

_"Then she married. That's good."_

_"She never married. I'm your son…"*_

The forest faded away and neither the king nor his companion spoke for some time. Finally Arthur broke the uneasy silence, "I'm sorry, Merlin. I had no idea." He placed a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You should have told me."

The warlock finally opened his eyes, blinking away the tears. When he spoke his voice was somber and hushed, "And then what? Have your father find out, toss you in the dungeons and have me beheaded after I dealt with Kilgharrah because I inherited the abilities of the Dragonlord?" He drew a deep breath, "No. I couldn't take that chance."

"He wouldn't have had you beheaded! Banishment maybe…"He paused; Merlin was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"Did you learn nothing about him when you freed his spirit?" Merlin spat furiously.

Arthur stepped back an odd look crossing his face, he looked to say something, then the black surrounding them began fading into gray and soon they found themselves in Camelot. The courtyard was filled with people; drums beat out a cadence that Uther typically liked to hear at executions.

Arthur spied an even younger Merlin standing among the people.

"This was my first day in Camelot." Merlin beside him stated stoically. They watched as the man was dragged out and beheaded. Hearing Uther proclaim happily from his balcony that the execution marked the twentieth anniversary of the Great Purge before a hag came forward, cursing him.

Arthur bit his bottom lip, shame clouding his face. Soon they were plunged into the dark surroundings again. "Point taken. Can we get out of here now?" He asked impatiently.

"It's not up to me; however I don't think we're done here yet."

They found themselves in a vast cavern deep below Camelot. Uther stood on an overhang, grinning maliciously up at the great dragon Kilgharrah. A better kempt Balinor stood behind him, unable to see the look on the king's face.

_"So Uther, you have destroyed all my kind. Now, you have convinced Balinor to summon me, and order me not to eat you on site so we can 'parlay'?" The dragon appeared more amused than worried._

_"Not exactly," he crooned, his words dripping with venom, "Magic has been the bane of my existence for far too long, Ygraine was the proverbial straw which your kind shall all pay for. NOW!" Uther screamed and a host of knights rushed forward, capturing the dragon in an enchanted chain. Another two behind Balinor grabbed the Dragonlord, gagging him and throwing a hood over his head, preventing him from releasing the dragon upon them all. Many of the knights fell to their death, or were trampled by mighty claws as he was captured. Screams of dying men mingled with the dragon's roar echoing through the cave as Uther quietly sauntered away up the stairs._

Arthur cringed, he felt ashamed that he wasn't more surprised by what he saw.

_He turned back to the guards holding Balinor, "Take my brother's bastard son to a cell where he shall await his fate." Uther's laughter faded into the dark._

Arthur looked at Merlin. Merlin looked at Arthur. Neither said a word as they studied each other, waiting for a reaction.

Merlin was the first to recover, his eyes widened and jaw dropping in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

"I know what you mean." Arthur said, blinking his eyes as he tried to come to terms with the revelation.

The warlock sighed heavily, cocking his head to the side and smacking his lips, "No, you don't understand," he stated, shaking his head rapidly. "I'm actually related to a supercilious cabbage-head."

Arthur, quick as a snake, shot out and smacked Merlin on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're such a whinny little girl. It's bad enough you call me by that name, now you're calling your father that too?"

Merlin paused. And blinked. "Um… really? Do I need to spell it out for you?"

Arthur's scrunched his face, his upper lip curling, "Huh?"

Merlin held out his hands, palms down, "Now, Sire, I don't want you to hurt yourself," he spoke slowly, "Uther's … brother's… bastard… son…  _Balinor_...my…father." His head bobbed slowly with each word as he watched the realization play out on Arthur's face.

The King's face suddenly went slack, his eyes widening, "Oh dear god."

(*~*~*~*)

The ride wasn't over yet it seemed, as they were taken next to the small throne room.

_"My Lord, what you ask is nearly impossible." A beautiful woman perhaps in her fiftieth year stood before King Uther. Long black hair accented with streaks of silver cascaded down her back to almost her knees. She had a tiny blue crescent moon tattooed on her forehead, her robes rich and flowing of the deepest blue._

_"You said 'nearly'. I want it done, Nimeuh. I don't care what the cost is. I will not see Ambrosius's son succeed me. You will do all you can, with whatever means necessary, to ensure Ygraine gives me a son!"_

"Oh come on, you can't say your surprised by that one?" Merlin commented and received a scowl in response.

Arthur glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, with a threatening twinkle, "Say, that's not the same Nimeuh that poisoned you… is it?"

_"Sire, as a trusted advisor on your council, I beg you not to ask this of me, the balance must be kept."_

_Uther sat back, assessing the witch before him, "So be it, I will not ask you." The king didn't look at all disappointed by her refusal. "I will order you to do this, and if you refuse again you will be sentenced for treason. Whatever the cost, Nimeuh, I want it done!"_

_The visions kept moving backwards phasing through history. Uther time and again using the magic of others through any means necessary, to get what he wanted. He sent a wizard to ensure the death one of his most loyal lords, Gorlois, who had become suspicious after the disappearance of his wife and eldest daughter from Uther's care, while trying to keep his youngest one hidden from the tyrant. Years before that it was magical disguise to get him into Tintagel for a night with the Lady Vivienne, Gorlois's wife, a blond girl-child watched in fear from the shadows while the king bedded her mother._

_A battle for the crown after his brother Ambrosius fell ill from a magical poison supplied once again by a sorcerer, while Uther had sent Balinor far away from Camelot on a mission. Many of the alliances made under Ambrosius broken by the teenage king's greed and impatience. Uther celebrated victory of the fight against any he suspected of opposing him. He secured it all by dark magic, taking the name Pendragon in hopes that would inspire people to follow him as they did his brother ordering any records he didn't agree with burnt._

"I think the girl must have been Morgause."

The king laughed sourly, "No wonder she hated him so. No wonder they all did. He told me I needed to rule by fear. I don't think I could ever do things as he has done." It made Arthur visibly ill to see the man he used to look up to and worship as a boy wasn't the man he wanted to believe. He swallowed down the bile forming in his throat.

Merlin shrugged, feeling exhausted. He recognized the Lady Vivienne as well, which confirmed his suspicions of the woman at the edge of the Magician's Grove when he entered.

Arthur wiped his hands across his face, emotionally drained. "God, is this going to end any time soon?"

They arrived next at a battlefield. Merlin eyed the area curiously.

"What?"

"I know this place. It's not far from where we are now. Look there, isn't that King Ambrosius?" Merlin pointed to a tent where two men were walking out. The first was in his early thirties, a strong and stately man with dark blond hair and blue eyes, covered in the shining rich armor of a king. Arthur nodded, recognizing Ambrosius Aurelianus from a painting in the castle. Merlin thought he saw a familiar dagger on the High King's belt.

The one following him was no more than thirteen, yet even at such a young age he looked battle-weary and exhausted, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and large ears sticking out under a scruffy head of black hair.

_"You look so much like your mother; I remember her well, though our love from the Great Rite wasn't allowed after the ceremony." Ambrosius spoke to the teenager fondly. "It's a wonder how Vortigern even found you."_

_"He said he needed to sacrifice me to stop the quakes under his castle."_

_Ambrosius laughed heartily, "This is no castle, Balinor. It is a simple hill fort. When we depart, my son, I'll take you to Camelot and show you what a castle really is."_

_The young Balinor's eyes widened with excitement, "That would be amazing; although I believe I will always think of this place as a castle first. However, I wish there was some way to stop it from shaking. For the villagers nearby," He stated innocently._

_"Well then as my son, you shall have this 'castle' as a battle prize for you and all your descendants. It is fitting actually that I should grant_ you _the Earldom of Snowdonia for your bravery against Vortigern today. You know, they say the shaking is because our ancestor captured the great red dragon and imprisoned her in the hill beneath our feet to stop her from ravaging the country side._

" _Tell me boy, do you have any magic in you?"_

_Balinor gulped and looked at his feet nervously as he had been told not all those of Roman decent were open to the mystic ways, "I do father. The druids have been training me in how to use it."_

_Ambrosius' smile grew broader, "Good that means you might have inherited my gift."_

_"What gift is that?"_

_"When I die, may that day be far away, you shall become a Dragonlord, like me and my mother's father before us. A long line that can be traced all the way back to the great King Lludd himself over 500 years ago!" The King put a hand on his son's shoulder, "Come now, let us see if we can find Y Ddraig Goch and tell her to be still while we rebuild your castle and then we shall go home to Camelot."_

_"I want to see the dragon too!" A boy of about ten ran had remained unseen as he followed the men along._

_"Ah, Uther, my dear little brother, we have talked of this before, you were not blessed with the gift of dragonspeak. I feel you are too young yet to come with us to the dragon even if you were."_

_"Why wasn't I blessed?" He demanded in a pout._

_Ambrosius sighed and ruffled the boy's hair patronizingly, obviously having explained the situation many times before. "Uther, we do not share the same mother._

_"Come my son, we should see to this and introduce you to your destiny." He said turning back to Balinor and leading him off, "What would you like to call your 'castle'?"_

_"My mother always said your name in the tongue of the druid people, so I would like to call it Dinas Emrys, in honor of you saving me."_

_Ambrosius smiled proudly, patting his son on the back. The pair walked away towards the castle leaving behind a very upset boy._

_Young Uther's face darkened into a scowl, "Someday I will be king, and I will have magic and dragons and everything and then I'll show them all..."_

Arthur ran his tongue inside his cheeks and lips as the scene faded, his face full of emotional turmoil discovering where it all started, the hatred and abuse of magic. He braced himself for another of the shifts, this time however the scene before them kept fading, and he found himself being sucked into the black surrounding void.

(*~*~*~*)

"OOH, what the…" his head pounding, his face was wet and he felt a strange sensation moving across his face. It took the king a minute to realize his eyes were closed. Once he noticed, he pried them open slowly, going cross-eyed he was startled to see something slowly moving across the bridge of his nose. "Merlin?" he groaned, "why is there a worm on my nose?"

Arthur felt the ground shift next to him. Merlin pushed himself up slightly, squinting his eyes against the cool air, "That's not a worm, it's a caterpillar."

"Whatever it is, I suggest you get it off me at once." He tried to make it sound like an order.

"Get it off yourself. I quit, I have my own castle now where I can hire servants to bully around and make wear funny hats." Merlin pushed himself off the ground, although still a bit unsteady he held out his hand to Arthur. He braced himself as the king clasped his forearm and pulled up to stand next to the warlock.

They stared at one another, each seeing the man before them in a new light. It started as a muffled snort from Merlin. It wasn't that the situation was funny, more just a release to the emotional overload they both experienced. Soon both he and Arthur were laughing uproariously, eyes watering profusely.

At the edge of the circle, Gwaine and Leon stopped bickering and mirrored each other as they turned to face the center where the two friends cackled and howled, in laughter.

"Sire!" Elyan was the first to react, as the flames went out and the lady dropped her barrier, he rushed to the king's side. The others followed after him. Gwaine reached out to steady Merlin before the warlock fell.

"Arthur, what happened?" Leon asked with concern, his eyes looking suspiciously on the priestess, Gwaine and Merlin.

"We're fine." Arthur finally managed. He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip struggling to keep a straight face. "In fact, I would like to introduce you all to my cousin, the Earl of Snowdonia, Lord Merlin Emrys, grandson of High King Ambrosius Aurelinus," He said his face straining to keep a kingly composure, very unsuccessfully.

Merlin stopped laughing abruptly at this point to glare at the king. Arthur thought briefly that perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned Merlin's parentage and then brushed it away. Everyone would have found out eventually and it was best to get it out of the way with now. The gathered knights all turned to Merlin, questioningly, staring openly at his new appearance.

The warlock opened his mouth to try and come up with some explanation or retort, and only managed a truly Merlin response of a hiccup. Arthur would have collapse in hysterics had Percival not caught him.

Gwaine ruffled Merlin's hair, "A 'Lord' now, eh? By the way, nice haircut!"

"Like you have room to talk,  _hiccup,_  'Prince' Gwaine."

The rogue rolled his eyes before noticing that the attention of the group was now on him. He grinned like a cat momentarily before a scowl took over and he glowered at the warlock.

"Well, I guess that explains things." Leon stated dryly as he stood stark still watching them all; he couldn't seem to find the humor of the situation and was completely unsure if it was the magic or the titles bothered him more.

The hiccups finally subsided; Merlin spoke up, sensing the tension. "King Lot's army is just past the edge of the forest toward the fort. Perhaps we should all sit down with him and discuss things, like the Saxons and Morgana?"

The comment seemed to pull Arthur back to the reality of their situation. He nodded, "Prince Gareth should have reached him by now. And the rest of my men, sans Mordred, are down near the shore helping Queen Annis's troops."

Merlin looked up sharply noticing the tone in Arthur's voice, "What happened with Mordred?"

Arthur sighed, the betrayal still raw in his mind. "We can discuss that later. For now I think hosting a negotiation with King Lot, Queen Annis, and I would be a place to start your lordship." He held out his arm in friendship.

Merlin accepted and clasped Arthur's forearm in response. "You realize I have no idea how to handle these things, right?"

"All the years following me around, and you never learned how to set up treaty negotiations?" Arthur looked at Merlin, stunned as the former servant shook his head. Before the manservant spent time preparing the laundry, speeches, and table arrangements, always keeping an eye out for trouble, he never thought he needed to learn the real political process of it all.

Instead of releasing Merlin's arm, Arthur squeezed it then pulled his companion into a brotherly hug for the first time. "Well, _cousin_ , I suppose it's time you were taught how to be a noble instead of a servant, at least you are certainly looking to part."

"Did you just say I looked like a prat?"

"Merlin…"

"Shutting up, Sire."

Merlin paused at the edge of the circle where the lady waited patiently, two knights still watched her with their swords drawn. "Will you join us, Lady Vivienne?" he asked quietly after waving off the guards. They looked to Arthur, who motioned for them to follow him.

She shook her head sadly, "Tonight I need to prepare for what is to come and call upon the Goddess for her assistance." She took his hand, a pleading look in her eyes, "Lord Emrys, when you see my daughter, tell her I love her, always."

Merlin began to nod then stopped a queer look on his face, "Maybe it would do better if you told her that yourself." He released her hand and then moved quickly to catch up with his companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - transcript from The Last Dragonlord not mine, just like Gwaine...*sniffle*.


	15. Setting up for revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is dealing with the new information and also decides to have a bit of fun at Gwaine's expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repost without edits.

A cold wind had come down from the north off the mountain in the distance. With it came the smell of moisture as a dense fog surrounded the hills. Arthur stood up on the turret breathing in the night air. He felt exhausted, mentally, physically, and most of all –emotionally. Each time he closed his eyes his mind would race back to the images and memories of the grove, most of which weren't even his. Before this he was determined to bring a new beginning to Camelot. He knew it would take time, perhaps even years to bring peace between the old and new. Now, he felt even more certain in one aspect, and completely torn about the decision in another. He could see more clearly all the suffering that had come at the hands of someone using magic for evil. It corrupted him from a young age, simply because he didn't possess it.

Tears of anger and remorse threatened to fall down the king's face as he fought an internal war.

Not one to show his true emotion in front of his men, he'd bottled it up for the ride to the keep, and throughout the rest of the evening as they ate dinner then bedded down for the night. Originally Arthur had thought to go to Lot's encampment straight away, but once they retrieved the horses he began to feel the strain of all that he had witnessed. He made the call to change course.

Finally he could hold it in no longer, even pacing along the turret in the dark couldn't contain his emotions. He fell back against the edge of the wall, sliding until his buttocks hit the stones and just cried.

(*~*~*~*)

_The doors lay in shreds, Uther's body lying prone on the floor. Morgause knelt in the center of the throne room cradling Morgana's head in her lap. Merlin stood over the women._

_"You poisoned her!"_

_"You gave me no choice."_

_"Tell me what you used and I can save her."_

_"First, stop the attack!" Merlin ordered, his voice shaking._

_"You're nothing but a simple servant! You don't tell me what to do!"_

_"If you want to know what poison it is, you will undo the magic that drives the knights!"_

_"Tell me the poison or you'll die!" Morgause bit back._

_"Then she'll die with me. I don't want this any more than you, but you give me no choice. Stop the knights and you can save her."*_

He woke, sweat beading on his brow. He hadn't thought of that day for so long.

He needed some air. As Merlin made his way up the narrow stairs, chipped and slick with moss he came up to the turret. Pausing briefly he heard a sound coming from the dark shadows near the wall.

Arthur sat on the cold stones his eyes open staring at his boots. Cloak wrapped around him to stave off the chill of the pre-dawn. Merlin said nothing but slid down the wall across from him. Arthur didn't even look up. Merlin slid his foot across the walkway and nudged Arthurs boot, startling the king.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Sire. You're going to catch cold sitting on these stones all night."

"I had a lot of thinking to do."

Merlin nodded and whispered, "Me too."

Arthur's eyebrow rose, "Oh do tell, maybe it'll take my mind off of things."

Merlin started to open his mouth and Arthur cut in "No lies this time, we are family, after all."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, still unable to fully wrap his mind around the idea, but it felt right after so many years. Although not equal to the status of a king, it was amazing to have the man he had given so much of his life too finally be able to recognize him for his worth. He told Arthur of his dream. The king sat quietly, his face devoid of emotion.

"I killed Morgana that day, I didn't want to. Without magic, I killed her, to save us all. And I haven't had the resolve to actually kill her again since and I don't know if I can. In that one instance, I feel I betrayed her more than Uther ever did. Sometimes I think…" He trailed off.

"What?"

Merlin shook his head, "Nothing, it doesn't matter. So now I've told you my secret for the night."

Arthur nodded, understanding how deep the pain must go and he let it be, "You did the right thing. I have been trying to come to terms with it all. Do you think it was real? What we saw?"

"I do."

"I once worried that I may never be a great king like my father."

"Eh, what we saw in there was one aspect of him. Something he let consume a large part of him until you were born. Like Morgana and her hatred of him, or like Gwaine in a tavern when someone pulls out the knucklebones, it was an addiction. He coveted something that he did not possess."

"Are you defending him again?"

Merlin shrugged, "What I knew of him in Camelot, it seems he did a lot of it to protect you from the magic he knew brought so much pain to him when your mother died. Instead of recognizing his weakness, which in his mind, as a king, would have been a death sentence to him and Camelot, he did the only thing he could…"

"He betrayed your father, his own flesh and blood, how can you…"

"Will you just shut up and let me finish?"

Arthur sat back, gazing coldly at his cousin.

"He loved you Arthur. Even with all the darkness surrounding him, after your mother passed, initially it was vengeance then his goal was to cleanse the world of magic to make a kingdom for  _you_. Where you wouldn't have the same temptations he suffered through as a boy. Were you ready to be a king at the age we first met?"

Arthur licked his lips, glancing up into the sky, stars slowly dimming as it lightened from the dark blue into indigo. What type of king would he have been at nineteen? Especially if he had grown up in a world surrounded so close by magic, but never having it himself. What if his father figure suddenly found a new son, and then what if he lost his dear Guinevere by a decision he made… He could have lost her when he used the horn. "No… I would have been a horrible king, and Camelot would be dust by now."

"And yet¸ it flourished and grew rich. Yes the people lived in fear, but after years of war with the Romans, each other, and the Saxons they would rather fear the known and have protection and food, rather than suffer at the hands of someone who could have been worse."

"I wish we would have been shown why he poisoned his own brother, though."

Merlin leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Maybe it was just to get out of the arranged betrothal to King Lot's daughter. I've heard Gwaine tell stories about his mother when he's drunk and I would certainly kill you to get out of something like that."

Arthur snickered, "Yeah he does have some tales to tell of that woman… wait, what?" Arthur gave Merlin a quirky look.

Merlin grinned like an old woman secretly telling a saucy bit of gossip, "King Lot's daughter was betrothed to Uther at one point in time. So, Gwaine could have almost been your brother."

Arthur shivered in disgust. "Gwaine is my brother in arms, but I am thankful he isn't my…"

Merlin smirked and nodded.

"And he makes fun of me for being noble…" The gears were turning in Arthurs head. "That's the reason you made the 'prince' comment. Oh, he is going to pay for this!" Arthur stood up, suddenly feeling in a much better mood. "Come Merlin. You have work to do!"

"Me?"

"Yeeeesss," Arthur drug out the word, "I haven't slept all night. So, you get to run a little errand for me." He held out his hand to help Merlin off the stones, his eyes twinkling and an evil grin plastered on his face. Merlin shook his head and chuckled- Arthur would push past this as he did with most things, and be the better for it. He almost felt sorry for Gwaine with whatever Arthur was planning and then Merlin remembered the singing he had to endure and there was no sign of remorse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *transcript from The Fires of Idirsholas
> 
> Just to note my timeline: Uther was 10 at battle with Vortigern when he finds out he has a cousin and suddenly his brother (who has been like a father) has his own son, 19 when Ambrosius was poisoned, 20ish when he married Ygraine, 27 when he slept with Vivienne and realized it was Ygraine that couldn't conceive, 30 when Arthur was born, 31 when he betrayed Balinor.


	16. With Family like this...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred has it out with Morgana- some phys and mental abuse in this chapter (nothing too graphic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> repost without edit. I plan on going back later and seeing what I can do to clean the whole story up, but I have been slacking on moving the chapters over here, so I thought best to get it up at least.

She sat languidly on a makeshift throne of wood and rocks staring into the fire. Aithusa was off stalking prey in the night forest. Her group had made it across the road following the foothills on the north eastern side of the range, and joined up with more of the advancing barbarians just a few hours before Lot's army reached the edge of the mountains. Now she rested at the far edge of a camp containing nearly a two thousand Saxon men, where she wouldn't be disturbed. They were the advanced vanguard of Chief Sunna, but had been cut off from the main host embattled with Lot's eldest son further northeast along the borders of Urien's kingdom.

Their scouts had been tracking King Lot and his army waiting for the opportunity to strike and take out the King.

Morgana's mind wandered as she gazed into the crackling flames, lost in the dark labyrinth of memories and visions. So much of the time now it became more difficult to discern between the reality and the dreams. She absentmindedly fingered the bracelet on her wrist, wondering where she had lost the mighty Emrys, or even just the two bumbling fools that left Camelot weeks ago. Was her chase of them some illusion brought on by the darkness? So hypnotized by the dance of the fire she wasn't consciously aware when her mind shifted.

Morgana felt a piece within her trying to break free, a part that Morgause had once cleansed, convincing her that she needed to set it aside, like a girl putting away her dolls to become a woman. It started innocently enough, just a plan to be rid of Uther and his tyrant ways, a path to be with her sister. It all changed so fast. She twisted the jewelry on her wrist again, remembering when she woke to find that Morgause had left it for her. The reminiscences of that time were hazy and felt so foreign to the enchantress. She felt herself start to change from that moment, the first night of sleep Morgana had known in years. It was so amazing and it wasn't until a few weeks later when the entire citadel fell asleep where they stood that Morgana began to realize something was wrong.

She knew she had met Morgause a few nights before in the forest and then … she woke in her room feeling a sense of heaviness on her soul. When it happened she was the only one still awake; Merlin was making excuses for her to Arthur, and then he would glare darkly at her behind the prince's back, he was her one true friend before it happened. Then he gave her the water, she briefly felt the weight lift before her breath was stolen.

Morgana couldn't say what truly happened next a man was crying above her, holding her, his voice drifting away into the darkness, apologizing… the blackened twisting abyss of hell followed. Her mind eventually filled in the face of the long bearded Emrys as poisoning her, yet logically she knew he wasn't there.

Nothingness. That is all she could recall for such a long time after. Morgause's voice was calling to her in a rhythmic maternal tone, lulling and caressing in between screams and nightmares and vacuums of pure nothing.

One night, for a brief moment of clarity she recalled looking down at the blood staining her hands, and below the dagger she held was Morgause, no recollection of anything from her death until that very moment. She looked up to see a shadow of a boy and all too soon she was plunged into hellish abyss once again.

Breaking through the emptiness suddenly was a nightmare, a vision, a name. The same old man who killed her…no, who tried to kill her, and yet he somehow succeeded even though Morgana still lived. A vision of Emrys and she was pleading for his help. Brief glimpses after that – usually of him. She would try to call out for help, yet he never heard her. He looked right at her, called her by name, but never acknowledged she was there.

Suddenly, one day she awoke, in the forest, a pain in her side burning as she felt her life seeping out. She was cold, could feel death once again calling to her. Then there was heat. Morgana felt for the first time, warmth like the sun shining on her. The most beautiful dream laid out in front of her eyes in the guise of a small dragon chirping at her. Someone, or something rather, had finally seen her. Had finally heard her calling and it felt like him, but it wasn't Emrys.

Crashing into the gloom before she had a chance to enjoy the splendor of it all. She awoke once again in darkness, but this time was more real. Her wrists wore manacles, and there were walls of lichen covered stone, and the dragon child was with her. After that, she could feel a bond, even when the obscurity of the cell became a fading dream against the nightmare of the abyss. She knew she was not alone.

Morgana felt another presence suddenly, familiar and foreboding before she was shoved into the black.

(*~*~*~*)

"Hello Morgana," Mordred appeared to materialize out of the night.

The witch's head snapped up and she sneered at the young man, her mind briefly realizing that it was nearly dawn. She figured she must have fallen asleep, as the campfire had turned to coals. And the air held the scent that only comes just before the sunrise.

Glowering he asked, "Why is Emrys still alive? I told you where to find him. Bloody hell Morgana, I even heard you had a map!"

"Your information was wrong. Emrys was not with them," She stood and faced the boy. "You didn't tell me Gwaine was King Lot's grandson! How was I to know he would let them escape and they would run probably back to Camelot?"

"Didn't you receive my message?" His blue eyes boring into her, although his face held no expression, "They were still heading to the monastery! By the Goddess, they probably found it and now they're up here, with Lot preparing for the war."

The raven-haired enchantress looked impatiently upon the boy, "I got it, and I took care of the monks, so if they stayed with Lot, how was I supposed to know? That's what you were supposed to be spying for."

He let out with a sound of disbelief finally showing emotion, "Arthur is up here now. Hell, they've probably already reunited by this point and now Arthur hates me and thinks I betrayed him because of you and your incompetence!"

Morgana raised her chin defiantly, her eyes wide and wild, "And is Emrys with them?"

Mordred screamed through his teeth, "Are you really that bloody blind, woman?"

"If you told me what I needed to know, we wouldn't be in this predicament." The witch began pacing. "You know, I think I've had enough of your lies. I'll bet you're here because Arthur sent you. He wants me to think you're on my side just to get me further away from the throne that is rightfully mine! At least now I know now there is someone else out there who can possibly assist me, and maybe the son of Ambrosius won't be such an idiot. And the best part, Arthur has no clue he even exists." She smirked, her gray eyes darting around as her chaotic mind thought up a new plan.

"Un-fucking believable!" Mordred threw his hands in the air.

"Believe it," the witch whispered coldly, "I'm done with your games, little boy." She raised her hand, golden flames clouding her eyes as she sent a spell towards the former knight.

Mordred froze, his own hand outstretched, eyes glowing, as he countered her spell. "You can't hurt me Morgana, so don't bother even trying. The magic you possess isn't even your own." He laughed and held up his hand, the ring of Gorlois glimmering on his finger.

"That was my sister's ring!" She glowered at him and tried another spell to blast him backwards, which he managed again to counter.

Mordred chuckled menacingly, "She was my mother, and you killed her. When that servant killed you with a simple poison my mother gave you life again, to serve her as she wished. You managed to screw that up and it was you that destroyed my mother- you and Emrys. She loved you," He spat out a look of utter disgust on his face. Mordred began stalking towards her, "I loved you too until you plunged that dagger into her heart! Then with a trick of fate, you stole her magic that was to be MINE!"

Morgana backed away from him, trembling until her knees hit the makeshift throne, Mordred nearly on top of her. He raised his hand to strike her.

He was startled when he heard a growl and a white flash came at him from the side. Lightning reflexes from training with Arthur paid off for him as he swung instead at Aithusa, clocking her on the side of her head and sending the young dragon skidding across the ground. Mordred sneered at the beast, knowing his magic would have no effect; he drew his sword, advancing on the prone dragon form.

"No…" Morgana whimpered, the madness briefly falling from her eyes, "Please…"

The dark haired man turned back to her, the mere threat against the deformed beast had the effect he wanted of putting her in her place. Stalking towards Morgana, Mordred pressed her against the throne, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking it backwards. He put his mouth to her ear, "If it wasn't for that stupid pet of yours you wouldn't even be questioning me. There would be no need to play these games with trying to please and coddle you. You are mine now; just as you were my mother's, but make no mistake I no longer hold any empathy in my heart for you. Perhaps you need another lesson, Morgana. I can always find a new hole to throw you in."

He released her hair and stepped back, his whole demeanor changing, sky blue eyes once more betraying nothing of his emotions. "You will lead your barbarian dogs to battle against the army gathered in the foothills. I will deal with Emrys personally and when I am done, if you have somehow managed to survive, I will kill you myself, auntie."

Sheathing his sword he turned and stalked away from her. Aithusa managed to pull herself up as he past, giving him another growl. He kicked out at the dragonling, sending her scampering away, the former knight walked off into the growing shadows of the sunrise.


	17. Bugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets his revenge on Gwaine and Merlin tries to find an ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> repost without edits

He missed his bed. Hell, he missed _a_  bed, any bed, a nice fluffy one with a comely little tavern wench wrapped around him and a mug of steaming spiced mead within easy reach. Yes, that would be perfect, but for now he would even just enjoy something besides grass, rocks, or stones underneath his bedroll. He also vowed to never take for granted again the wooden shutters and thick tapestries that would normally block out the sunlight from assaulting his eyelids as it streamed through the window.

Groaning and trying to stretch out the kinks. He felt his foot touch something solid. Wincing, he cracked his eye open and saw that it was Leon's backside. Gwaine grinned and stretched even further, making sure to yawn loudly as he pressed his toes into his friend.

Leon shifted and tried to swat the foot away, rolling over he found the stinking offender just below his face. He grabbed one of the toes and pinched down hard.

"Yowch!" Gwaine didn't even try to muffle the sound as he drew his foot back under the blanket.

"C'mon Gwaine, shut it already, we're still trying to sleep," Elyan yawned.

The rogue prince bit his lip to keep from cursing. He sat up and grabbed his boots, shoving the foot with the now aching toe into it. There was an odd sensation, he quickly pulled the appendage back out and looked down in the boot. He looked at his toe, a pinch shouldn't have caused the weirdness he felt. He stuck his hand into the boot and found nothing.

Shaking his head, he tried again. As soon as his toes touched the bottom, it felt as if something started crawling on them. Quickly his foot came back out and he glanced inside again, stuffing his hand deeper in to find the culprit and came back out with nothing. "What the…?" He asked to the boot, clearly becoming agitated.

Deciding he would try the other one instead, he stuck the left foot down and grimaced when something inside crunched slightly. An ooze forming between his toes. He pulled it off and tossed both the boots on the ground. His eyes widened and he couldn't control the feminine squeal as a host of insects crawled out of the footwear. "BLOODY FREAKING HELL!"

The knights at this point all seemed to jump up, grabbing for their swords, only to see Gwaine backing away from the outpouring of bugs. All that is, save for Merlin and Arthur.

Merlin lay on his bedroll, his eyes veiled to hide the back and forth changing from gold to blue.

_"You want me to what?"_

_"Come on Merlin, it's perfect! He wouldn't put his hand inside the latch at in the Fisher King's tower because of it."_

_"But… ew."_

_"Exactly." Arthur stated with a maniacal grin._

_"I'm not your servant anymore, remember."_

_"No you're my younger cousin who I can bully around make do my dirty work. It's even better!"_

_"…"_

_"Trust me, he'll get the message I want to send, now quit being such a girl about it."_

_Merlin really had no wish to go out bug hunting; a thought occurred to him, "You know I can do it with magic too?"_

_Arthur nodded appraisingly, "That might be quicker – but would it still have the same effect?"_

_Merlin winked and grinned, "Better."_

_Arthur surveyed his sleeping knights as he laid down, giving his cousin the signal to go ahead with it. Merlin snuck over to Gwaine's boots and muttered a spell._

"Oy Gwaine, some of us are trying to sleep here. It's just a few bugs, quite being such a princess. – Oh wait, that's right, you are a real princess… tsk tsk what would your grandfather think. You know I'll bet he heard that all the down in his camp."

Merlin couldn't stop the snicker causing Gwaine to glare his direction grabbed his boots as soon as the bugs disappeared and threw them at his so-called friend.

"Hey," he protested, "I was under orders!"

"Bullocks! I spend the last month or more with ya, traveling, and helping you figure out your noble and I get repaid with bugs in my boots."

"After the singing? Yes."

"Did you learn how to make that sound from one of your wenches, Gwaine?" Leon asked casually, garnering laughter from the others.

"Oh you are all going to pay for this!" With that he spread his hands out and began singing, "In Camelot I met a maid, mark well what I do say, In Camelot I met a maid, and she was mistress of her trade." He made a motion of swiveling his hips seductively, "I'll go no more a rovin' with you fair maid."

He kept singing while they donned their gear, everyone startled a bit when a new voice joined the song, they all stopped and turned towards the door to see King Lot standing there.

"I gave this miss a parting kiss, above the rest, my money I miss…"

Gwaine joined him for the last line, "And I'll go no more a rovin' with you fair maid."

Lot chuckled his eyes glazing as a memory caught his mind, "Ah, to be young again. It seems you and I are not that different after all. I remember annoying the hell out of Ambrosius, before he was king and we were just princes on the battle field trying to do right and make a name for ourselves. Hmm, my brother's and I would wake him up every morning with a song he particularly despised - one about a missing rooster."

Arthur bit back a smile, "King Lot, forgive me for not coming to you last night, it was rather late when we arrived, and I did not wish to disturb you."

"Of course, King Arthur, I appreciate that, especially in my old age. I came up to the fort because a rider was sent from Queen Annis; she will join us in a couple of hours."

Arthur nudged Merlin with his elbow. Merlin looked at him confused; Arthur gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded, indicating King Lot. Gasping an 'Oh', Merlin finally caught on and turned to the elderly king.

"Your Grace," Merlin bowed looking at Arthur nervously, "I would like to host treaty negotiations between your three kingdoms here at Dinas Emrys, although, we don't seem to have any place for you to sit."

Lot gave a disapproving look at the room, and if it were not for the fact they could now see some of the same ornery traits he shared with Gwaine, it would have been quite intimidating, "Not a good way to welcome visiting royals to your home, son of Balinor. Well, I suppose I will just need to offer my war tent as temporary council for the time being." He stated with an exasperated sigh. He turned on his heel and stalked out, leaving Arthur, Merlin, and the knights of Camelot fidgeting like scolded boys.

Once outside, the old man's lips quirked up in a bit of a smile.

(*~*~*~*)

A musty and tattered book found far under a pile of rubble, lay in front of the warlock, his eyes scouring the pages for anything that might help. The exhaust from a candle set up close, causing his eyes to water. The edges of the pages were eaten away by mice, the leather binding cracked and molded. Dust and mildew spread into the air with each page turn.

He felt a hard knock on the back of his skull, causing his face to plant itself in the book. "Ow," he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his nose. He shifted his weight on the piled bedroll where he sat, glaring at the man who unceremoniously plopped himself onto the hearth stones nearby, "You do realize this is my castle, and I can have you punished for that."

"I'm still your liege lord and king, whatever is yours is also mine." Arthur gave Merlin a cocked grin, throwing his socks at the warlock as hard as he could. "Fine, have your 'servants' wash my socks oh great lord of this wonderful pile of rocks. OH wait, you don't have any, do you?" He let out with a cackle.

Merlin tried to level a dark gaze upon the king of Camelot, but was unable to hold it before a chuckle broke through. "Wash your own socks, you prat," he whined tossing them back.

"I just came from another meeting with Lot. He knows more about fighting Saxon's than any of my people, so I am going to let him and Gareth take lead in battle. Queen Annis's troops are staying down near the river crossing at the base of the hills if the Saxon's decide to try and take us from that direction. However- Morgana, and Mordred if he shows up, will be ours to deal with. His eldest son, Prince Gaheris is north of us fighting to keep the main host from moving this way.

"Also, a scout came back a bit ago, whatever he saw, scared the poor man. He was convinced it was something like a wyvern, but pale and skeletal…Merlin?" Arthur trailed off and sat forward.

Merlin stared at his hands as he fidgeted on his seat. "She…" There was so much the warlock wanted to tell his friend, his king, his cousin, but he knew now was not the time or place. "Her name is Aithusa, and she is a dragon."

"I see," Arthur sat back, rubbing his chin. He stared at Merlin suspiciously, "Well, since you are a Dragon Lord, I guess you can just tell this Aithusa to fly away or something. It would certainly be to our advantage."

Licking his lips nervously, Merlin thought over his next words carefully, "I can't. Something is broken inside her mind, she doesn't respond to my calls anymore, and I don't know enough about dragons to help her."

"Is there anyone who does?"

He began to shake his head then stopped, his face playing out the emotions and thoughts running through his mind. Kilgharrah might, however Merlin didn't know how long it would take him to arrive once called. There were too many men outside the walls to summon him without drawing unwanted attention, and as far as Arthur knew – the Great Dragon of Camelot had been slain. Merlin wasn't ready to fill in the missing pieces of Kilgharrah's fate with Arthur just yet.

Then the last memory from the Magicians Grove came back to him. "There just might be, if I can just figure out how to reach her." Merlin turned back to the book in front of him with a renewed sense of purpose.

"Do I have to play a guessing game, or will you tell me who this person is?"

"No, don't you remember," Merlin stated, an excited grin reaching to his ears and lighting his eyes. "Y Ddraig Goch 'The Red Dragon' may still be alive and just underneath us. If I can find a way to get to her…" he licked his lips watching as the blond man next him stared off momentarily, his eyes glazed.

Arthur turned back toward Merlin, not looking very happy, but willing to accept the possibility, "We'll have our own dragon against Morgana."

Merlin nodded, "Are you alright with that?" He could sense the hesitation in his companion.

"Battle will commence tomorrow. I ride out with King Lot at first light to meet them on the field." Arthur licked his lips, the only sign of nervousness and uncertainty, "If your magic is really as powerful as you say... well, just do what you need to then join us as quickly as you can."

Merlin nodded his understanding. The King wouldn't commit himself to a decision until after he saw first hand how this played out. He showed his trust in Merlin to decide the right path once he met with the dragon, "Arthur, be careful tomorrow, I don't know what Mordred and Morgana have planned."

"Mordred, hmph did you know he was Morgause's son?"

Merlin shook his head, a bit stunned. In all his wondering about the vision and what the boy's purpose was he had to admit that possibility never crossed his mind.

"It is his wish to protect me, 'from Emrys', which I now know is you. He blames you for it all including the fact that I guess Morgause's blood is what Morgana used to open the veil. I still don't know where I sit with all this magic stuff. I've seen it hurt so many, and then there are the druids most are so peaceful, and then there's you, who goes and throws everything I thought I believed out the window."

The warlock smiled, "I do it on purpose, just to make your life exciting."

"Merlin, you have opened my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities. Since we first met, I knew there was something about you, something I could feel deep down, but couldn't place my finger on. You have always been more than just a servant to me. Propriety kept me from saying it before, but I," he swallowed, "I love you as brother."

The dark-haired man took the words to heart, yet it seemed too good of an opportunity to pass up, "Aw, does this mean I can get a hug now?"

Arthur glared at his friend, "If we survive this…"

"WHEN, Arthur, when, because we will overcome and win tomorrow. For all of Albion we have to, this is just the start."

"When we survive this, then yes," He ground his teeth, forcing the words out, "I suppose I owe you a true and proper hug."

(*~*~*~*)

The gray clouds hung in the sky, obscuring the tops of the surrounding hills. The air felt cool and moist as seemed to be the norm for this place, foreshadowing rain in the coming day. The ominous cawing of a crow from a nearby tree conveyed the potential of corpses laid bare on the field, a succulent feast for the bird, was soon to arise. The sound cut through the silence that filled the valley below the runes of the hill fort echoing off the rocky escarpments. Merlin shivered as his eyes scanned the surrounding land,  _his_  land by right of birth. Tents of red and purple covered the ground between the fort and a meadow vale below, normally this many gathered men would be anything but quiet, however they all knew of the battle to come and none seemed ready to break the silence that would signal the start of a day that promised so many deaths. Thunder rolled through the sky, the storm could still be many miles away, and come hell or high water – which this day would surely hold both – war wouldn't stop.

He closed his eyes and opened his mind to the surroundings. Out in the distance, he could feel Morgana's power fluctuating and the troops surrounding her. He surveyed the scene one last time, knowing what he must do. Today they would all know, Morgana and all the rest, friends and foe alike, the secret he kept guarded so close for too many years. By nightfall everything Merlin knew would change for good or ill. The ancient mountains would tremble with inhuman voices; tonight souls of men would find their way into the Summerlands. He dreamed once again of the vision shown to him by the druid seer. Merlin knew he would have to be extra vigilant to somehow ensure Arthur did not fall as was foretold.

He turned from the turret, making his way down to the ground floor, the weight of the future held in his hands. Outside in the courtyard stood a ring of stones he now knew marked the passageway for a sorcerer to pools hidden well below the fortification. He gave Arthur a slight nod as they passed in the courtyard; the words they shared the evening before enough to give them both the strength they needed for this day.

Merlin stood at the center of the ring and began incanting a teleportation spell that would take him to a dragon possibly more powerful than even the Great Kilgharrah, deep within the earth.


	18. Laughing Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all starts to make sense to Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah you guessed it, reposted from my ff net account with out edits.

Merlin bit back a wave of dizziness from the teleportation spell, realizing at once he stood in a grand cavern next to a pool. He'd seen the spell used before, but had never tried it himself. Luckily, or not, it was one of the few left intact from the assault of rodents and time in the book he found. He took a moment to steady himself, eyes squinting in the near darkness. The water in the pool seemed to have an unnatural glow, faintly coming off the surface. Finally, he took a breath and whispered the word that created a soft ball of light in his palm.

The cavern didn't seem that large. Certainly it was not big enough to house a dragon Kilgharrah's size, although the roof was high above outside of the range of his light. "Hello?" He called out, wondering if there was a larger cave above. The pool of water seemed to settle next to one of the rock faces directly under the vast ceiling. Merlin bent over the edge, gazing down at first to try and find what could cause the glow, his free hand clutching the rock wall. He bent out a bit further, looking upward. He could barely make out a pinhole of light far overhead.

"Hello?" He called again, feeling a bit frustrated. " **O Drakon** …" He began in the voice of the dragonlord. Fear and adrenaline poured through him when he felt the rock face shift. He pulled back his hand, glancing first at the coating of grime on his palm, then to where it had been. Under the perfect handprint of removed dust a deep blood red color sparkled against his magical light.

Merlin's eyes widened, his mouth falling open. He took a careful and slow step back, gazing at the wall with a sense of dread. He kept backing away until he felt the wall behind him, turning to look at it Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin to see an eye filled with the amber fire of magic as tall as himself open and watching him.

"Ah a new Dragonlord has come to find me at last." He heard the voice in his mind, the same sing-song melody that called to him the first night in the keep.

"Y Ddraig Goch," Merlin bowed low, his heart nearly beating out of his chest, "I greet you Great Red Dragon." He could see now that the walls he thought to mark the outline of the cave was simply the dragon curling around the pool in a cavern larger than Merlin had imagined. And he was standing right in the middle. Before entering, he'd thought of how to present his request to the dragon, assuming she would be just as annoying as Kilgharrah when they first met. All those carefully chosen words were gone now, flown from his mind, in the face of the magnificently huge creature.

"Emrys, you are the last of your kind, I feel. Your father offered to free me from this place on many occasions, and I refused him, I rather like my sleep. So speak your business and be on your way," She spoke again in his head.

Finally Merlin found his voice, "I need your help, great one. There is a babe of your magnificent race, she is ill."

The colossal eye blinked.

"I…I saved her egg, and named her. Then something happened and she refused to answer my calls. Now she is sick and …"

"You did not nourish her as you should have?" Her tone held a hint of accusation.

"I didn't know how, Balinor died shortly after I found out I was his son. I only had Kilgharrah and my own, rather lacking, intuition… Please, can you help me to save Aithusa?"

"The only help is for another dragon to destroy the sickness in her, at a sacred place known only to my kind. Mortal magic like yours has no effect on our race."

"The only other of your kind I know is Kilgharrah," He reiterated. "Also, Aithusa is protected by a high priestess of the old religion." Merlin stated weakly, not knowing if the information would make a difference.

"Call her what you will if it makes you feel better, but she is not the true priestess. Why not just kill the dark witch?"

Merlin's heart was heavy, "I don't know if I can kill Morgana."

Red chuckled in Merlin's mind, "The girl is trapped in nightmares inside her own flesh from the day she died, deep within the sorceress you call a priestess; do not be so quick to condemn her."

"What do you mean? I have had Killgarah telling me she must die from the start! And you just said to kill her."

"You do not listen to my words, young one. Kilgharrah is rash for my kind and only sees or tells what he wants. He is ever correct, and yet is constantly mistaken."

Merlin bit his tongue, becoming frustrated by the riddles, "Are you saying I need to kill her, or that I can save her? What?!"

"You are her destiny and you are  _her_  doom- the moment the blood of sacrifice was spilled, it became so."

Merlin was beginning to lose his patience. He felt the power of his ancestors welling up inside him. "Enough of your games and riddles -answer me plainly, dragon!"

The eye narrowed ever so slightly at the commanding tone. When she answered her mental voice held a condescending air, "It is a question of balance. Think deeply about where she has been and what she has; see what was there in front of you all along. Remember your dreams and nightmares."

Exasperated, Merlin began pacing and running over history in his mind. "My nightmares…Her nightmares, the bracelet from Morgause to keep them at bay, the sleeping curse, I killed her and Morgause brought her back to life – it was then that she changed. Wait, I killed her…"he remembered his dream about poisoning her. "For the sleeping spell to be broken, her life force had to cease. She was dead… Like Lancelot was dead…" Finally, he paused looking the dragon in her great amber eye. He had a sudden flash of insight. Perhaps Morgause had not been able to save her sister from the poison. What if the Morgana they had been fighting all these years was a shade?

Or at least she was until… she tore the veil, she shed Morgause's blood to do it on the Isle of the Blessed, the warlock's mind was turning. What Arthur explained when he finally told Merlin about Mordred, finally began to make sense. He recalled his battle with Nimueh.

"Balance. A life for a life…The power on the Isle and the blood should have given Morgana her life back. Something stopped her from fully coming back. Mordred. Oh Gods, he has been manipulating her, driving her mad." The pieces fell into place, the bracelet with the mark of the House of Gorlois, Mordred having a ring with the same symbol. What if they were linked? Could this all be the work of a teenage boy bent on vengeance that was controlling her? It would certainly account for her crazed episodes followed by periods of silence.

He thought about Morgana using bracelets for her own spells with Mithian and, Merlin remembered talking to his mother when they were run out of Camelot- Gwen spoke to Hunith of a bracelet around the time Shade Lancelot had returned to Camelot. Could it be Morgana calling out from behind the madness, trying to tell him she was still there?

"Very good young dragonlord, now do you understand?" She crooned, almost as if she had read his mind.

The warlock was furious with his old 'friend', "Why did Kilgharrah never tell me any of this?"

"Perhaps he thought the dagger Carnwenhau lost and thus there was no point in prolonging destiny with a fruitless quest. Only a blade forged by angels can strike down the heart of a tool so dark. Its hilt will respond to our kindred souls and allow you to shadow yourself from those around you in times of need."

Merlin felt the magic in the dagger glow softly when the dragon spoke its name. He swore to himself that he would deal with the dragon of Camelot later, now he smiled widely "I understand, thank you. Now, how do I get  _you_  out of here to take care of Aithusa?"

At this The Red Dragon laughed loudly, no longer in Merlin's mind, and the whole cavern rumbled with her.

(*~*~*~*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that have gotten a bit confuggled with who is related to whom and how- Here is a rundown of some of it: (There is some historical accuracy here… somewhere – although I have twisted and stretched it for my story, so unless otherwise noted majority of the below should be taken as fictional. Most of the information can be found on wiki, Geoffrey of Monmouth's 'History of the Kings of Britian' (probably one of the biggest Arthurian Legend fanfic writers in history, along with Lady Charlotte Guest lol), and other various other books/websites.)
> 
> King Lludd (aprox 100AD) – banished Y Ddraig Goch to the pool under Dinas ? (later renamed Dinas Emyrs) after she ravaged the land and her roars caused infertility in women and animals. ( Hey that's sort of what the actual legends say! LOL)
> 
> Constanus II- Roman warlord – Conquered most of Britian. Father of Constan, Ambrosius, and Uther.
> 
> Constan – Constanus's eldest son from his first wife, committed to the priesthood, Monk of the new religion.
> 
> Constanus II's 2nd wife- ancestor of King Lludd, Mother of Ambrosius. (this is totally made up by me)
> 
> Ambrosius- Constanus's 2nd son by 2nd wife Father of Balinor – never married. (2 years younger than Constan)
> 
> Uther- Constanus's 3rd son by his 3rd wife Born after Constanus died. Married Ygraine, father of Arthur. Affair with Vivienne, wife of Gorlois. (18ish years younger than Ambrosias)
> 
> Ygraine Du Bois- Arthur's mother
> 
> Vivienne – Wife of Gorlois, daughter Morgause with Gorlois, daughter Morgana with Uther.
> 
> Balinor- Bastard son of Ambrosias, father of Merlin with Hunith.
> 
> Mordred- Son of Morgause and unknown druid. Nephew of Morgana.
> 
> Lot of Orkney- Father of Teneu, Gaheris, Gareth. Brother of King Urien. Friend of Ambrosius. Grandfather of Gwaine. (There are 3 different Lot's associated with the Arthurian Legends, I chose Orkney because of the relation with Gwaine- who is historically Lot's son with either Morgana or Morgause.)
> 
> Owain mab Urien- Son of King Urien. Married Teneu. Father of Gwaine. (tiny bit historical, but mostly my twist)
> 
> Teneu- Daughter of Lot, originally betrothed to Uther. Married Owain. mother of Gwaine. (historically- Teneu was raped by Owain and her father threw her off a cliff, she survived and her child became Saint Kentigern.)
> 
> Vortigern – (here's where I relied on a lot of actual legend) British Roman descent helped to bring in the Saxons to help defend Britain after Constanus II died and the Romans left against the Scots and Picts. He was betrayed and then pushed back to Dinas Emrys where he was told to build a fortification. Each day it would crumble. Was then advised to find a fatherless boy (historically Merlin/Ambrosius, my story- Balinor) and use his blood as a sacrifice in the mortar to keep Dinas Emrys from falling. Was defeated at the battle by Ambrosius.


	19. Call to war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle begins out in the hills between Morgana and the Saxons and the joined forces of Arthur and Lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited reposting.
> 
> Song lyrics: Morrigan by Omnia (not mine, neither is Merlin)
> 
> [Over hills and over meadows
> 
> See the crow fly, feel her shadow
> 
> Over woods and over mountains
> 
> Searching for a war
> 
> Her wings embrace each strife and battle
> 
> Where swords they clash and chariots rattle
> 
> Seeking out the one whose time
> 
> Has come to take the blade]

Ratted raven colored hair was tousled about in the breeze. The sky was threatening to open at any moment, yet rain wouldn't stop the bloodlust of two thousand Barbarians from the mainland hell bent on taking what was promised their people decades before. The witch surveyed the field before her, and then lifted her eyes to gaze across to another hill. On the opposite side of the lowland, men and horses in shinning rich armor flying golden griffins on purple, mixed in were a few blue with black chevrons, and the ones she dreaded the most- golden dragons on a field of crimson.

Even at this distance she could make out the key figures of King Lot and Arthur. But her eyes scanned for the one she truly wanted, a relic of a man, with a long beard white as snow wearing robes the same color as Camelot. It didn't surprise the witch to not see him; the thorn in her side always seemed to wait until it was most inconvenient to her before appearing.

Each side stood taking measure of the other; it was almost unbearable, waiting for the hammer to fall. The Saxons outnumbered the combined forces of Albion men, plus with a sorceress and dragon they felt it would be an easy day. Even in her madness, the dark enchantress knew better. With the added threat Mordred had given her, she knew this was going to be anything but simple. Her hand fell onto Aithusa's head, gently stroking it absentmindedly to calm her own nerves.

She felt the young dragon stiffen, cocking her skeletal head to the side as if hearing something. A great roll of thunder seemed to spread across the sky, shaking the earth beneath their feet. Waves of fear washed over Aithusa strong enough that Morgana felt it too, and shivered. Oh how she wished the dragon could speak to her! A great cry went up from the Saxon leader, and soon they were rushing forward, tired of the waiting and believing the thunder to be a sign from their Gods.

(*~*~*~*)

Gareth looked around at the assembled men and realized someone was missing. He moved his up next to his nephew, "Where is your friend? I expected him to be a part of this."

His father, overhearing the question, answered before Gwaine, "I'm sure the Dragonlord has more pressing matters than sitting and waiting for battle to be joined."

"You seem to know an awful lot about him." Arthur commented curiously, biting back a slight hint of jealousy.

Lot nodded, "I knew his father and of course his grandfather quite well. Ambrosius asked me to squire his boy; however it seemed he did not fit into the mold of a knight. Much to his father's dismay, Balinor had too much of his mother's people in him for that."

"Merlin is a dragonlord too?" Leon asked beside his king. Arthur gave his friend an apologetic look for not telling him sooner. He knew once this was all said and done, he would need to really sit down and try to talk things out with the commander of his knights.

"So, what would a dragonlord be doing while we sit and wait?" Gwaine asked to both the kings, interested as to where his friend might have disappeared to this morning. The rogue prince had finally become used to the warlocks minor tricks, but he stood in stunned silence with the other knights around the court yard as Merlin stood in the circle. His arms at his sides, his voice in low hushed tones speaking words they did not understand. Merlin's eyes glowed and a whirlwind suddenly engulfed him. In a matter of seconds it was gone, and so was their friend.

Lot gave a half-smile, but it was Arthur who answered, "He went off to try and get us some extra help."

As if on cue, the ground trembled as if the storm was making its presence known with a massive rumble through the sky.

"Ha! It sounds like your dragonlord either pissed the bitch off, or made her laugh. Send a prayer to your Gods boys, that it is the latter!" They all tensed hearing the war cries, as the Saxons began to charge. Lot raised his arm, "Archers!" He called out, Gareth and others along the line repeating the call. Between the cavalry and foot soldiers, the bowmen stepped out.

"Notch," He ordered and it was sent down the ranks. Arthur and the others waited with baited breath, anxious for the battle. Rarely had those now living in Camelot been fully subjected to an open combat field such as this. Much of their fighting had been melee in forests or defending the castle walls. The younger king was eager to see the battle tactics he'd read about, actually put into practice. They watched as the barbarians raced down the hill into the meadow. Lot sat calmly astride his stallion, eyes like a hawk watching the enemies' progress.

"Draw," once again those along the front line parroted the King's order. The Saxon's had made it to the half-way point from where they started to the Lothian lines. Abruptly Lot roared to life, "FIRE!"

(*~*~*~*)

Arrows rained down on the Saxons. Arthur nodded to his core knights as one they moved their horses back among the waiting ranks of foot soldiers and cavalry. His plan with Merlin was to wait for the chaos of the battle and then try to slip around the enemy ranks and find his sister. He would have much preferred to be down in the middle of the fray, but he understood the need to deal with Morgana took precedence.

_Arthur…_

He blinked, hearing Merlin's voice, and looked around in confusion. The blond king gasped when he finally spied the source of the voice on a precipice off to the side and above the chosen battle grounds. He managed an unsteady grin, "There's Merlin, let's go." The core knights of Camelot followed their king as he rode up the hill to join Merlin just as the cavalry and footmen began to charge down to the meadow to meet the Saxons.

"We need to get to Morgana." He called to them as the knights neared.

"There she is." Gwaine, pointed off in the direction the Saxon's started from.

They watched Morgana standing with the barbarian commanders surrounded by nearly fifty guards. She missed her brother slipping away when the arrows hailed down and now was screaming out curses, casting spells into the fray.

"When we get down there, don't kill her, I need her alive." Merlin stated with authority. He unsheathed the dagger at his belt.

"After all she's done, you expect us to just let her live?" Leon questioned, irritated.

Merlin nodded, "It's not her… I mean it is, but, I can explain later, just trust me on this, please!" Leon backed off a pace, the others nodded. "I will try and subdue her. I need you to get the bracelet she wears and break it with this." He said, handing the dagger to Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes, tucking the dagger in his belt. His voice was heavy with sarcasm, "Simple enough."

"Merlin, even if we do get through her guards, she's got that pipsqueak dragon with her," Gwaine pondered.

"He's right, Merlin. It's suicide to try and get to her like this. Even with magic," Leon tried to keep his voice calm, but inside he knew they wouldn't be able to fight their way to her in open combat.

"Remember, Sire, years ago, when I said I could take you apart?" Arthur nodded uneasily. Merlin smirked. "Are you ready for this?*"

"Do I have a choice?"

Merlin winked at his cousin, "Hold onto your helms!"

The storm above them continued threatening loudly, but a drop of rain had yet to fall. The clash of steel in the meadow below rang off the rocks. Merlin closed his eyes, he drew up full, the aura of his being crackling with energy. Without a word he opened his eyes, now alight with the fire of magic, his hand stretched to the sky, almost appearing to caress it, and fury from the storm seemed to bow to his will. As he brought his arm down lightning crashed around the witch and dragon, sending the Saxon's screaming off in all directions. Many dropped to the ground unmoving, the smell of charred flesh and ozone permeating the air. The witch spun around in panic. Her dark locks and tattered black dress blurring as she tried to pinpoint the source.

Gwaine whistled appraisingly. Percival was grinning, his eyes wide. Elyan looked on, completely shocked. Leon whispered, "Gods have mercy," as he stared dumbfounded. They had seen teleportation before, so this morning it was just the shock of seeing it cast by Merlin – this display, however, firmly set in their minds how powerfully frightening their friend truly was. Arthur's eyes widened; his lips drawing in a tight thin line. Without really thinking he turned and smacked the back of Merlin's head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Merlin asked incredulously.

"ALL THIS TIME! Everything we have been through, all the battles fought together!" Arthur's mouth continued moving, incoherent words coming out as he raged on. Finally he looked Merlin dead in the eyes, "All this time you've been holding out on me, when you could do this!" He stuck his arm out to indicate the epicenter of the storm. His breath ragged with anger.

Merlin cowered a little before the king, looking very much the clumsy servant they all knew. He smiled sheepishly, "Um… sorry? Although, in my defense, I have been doing this sort of thing, you just failed to notice."

"We should get moving, Sire, before they regroup," Leon managed to cut in, his eyes never leaving the scene.

"She still has the dragon with her," Gwaine mentioned with a sour grin.

"I don't suppose you figured out how take care of that as well?" Arthur asked, his face in a pout.

"That's next," He stared down at the witch, gold eyes flashing once more. "Morgana," He whispered.

* * *

She stopped suddenly, slowly her eyes shifted to the side, followed by her head looking up above to where the elite of Camelot stood ready. She almost didn't recognize the man who stood at the head of the group, "Merlin?" Then her vision shifted to red and the old man she dreaded the most was in his place. "That's him…" She trembled with fear and rage. Mordred promised that he would take care of Emrys. Yet there stood the wizard who haunted her every waking moment. Morgana summoned a spell and threw her hands towards the old man.

* * *

" _Randgebeorh ond edhwierft_ ,[1]" Merlin said and a barrier went up before them, the magic from Morgana hit the shield and bounced back towards Morgana. She barely was able to jump out of the way.

Merlin conjured another spell and sent it back towards the witch, adrenaline pumping through his body. A fireball exploded just behind the witch as she stumbled to her feet. She whirled around bringing her hands up to shield herself.

The others looked nervously at Merlin, their swords out and ready. Merlin was smiling. He took a deep Breath, " _O Drakon cuman ond þearf min![_ 2] Go now, I'll keep her busy!" He yelled at his companions. Not needing to be told twice, they took off down the hill towards Morgana.

Suddenly, the hills shook. They looked back to see Merlin silhouetted on his precipice and from behind him rose a massive form, blocking out the daylight and dwarfing Merlin's form in shadow. The roar of the red dragon was deafening. Many of the men, Saxxon and Britian alike, felt a wave of fear course through them. They watched as it soared high into the clouds. Aithusa took flight much to the dismay of her mistress, spitting out fireballs in defiance at the larger dragon.

Morgana forced herself to stand and saw the bearded wizard once again, this time alone on the rocks. Her hand swung out attempting to push him back with pure energy. She was rewarded for her efforts when she saw him fall back a step. She was too far away to do much damage with it, but she was happy that at least it hit.

The warlock regained his footing and felt the wind rise up at his mental call. Watching Morgana caught up in a whirlwind.

The dragons danced in the sky, Aithusa out maneuvering Red for the time being as she swooped and circled, but the exertion was beginning to show in the little one.

The knights made it to the lower plateau. Saxons not hit with the electricity were regrouping and advancing to meet them. Swords clashed on the hilltop as well as in the meadow below, the dragons above them all pushed out of their minds as they battled.

Merlin did his best to keep his friends safe as he and Morgana traded spells, both taking minor hits, yet not doing much damage so far from one another. Gwaine danced with his blade, disarming enemies as they faced him, he soon dropped his shield and snatched up a second blade as he continued to press forward. Percival was facing off with at least five men when he felt another one near his back, he spun and grabbed the man, continuing to spin he flung the helpless Saxon into his friends causing them to fall like dominos. Elyan fell behind a bit, but was still managing to hold his own. Arthur at the forefront of the charge sliced and ducked sending the Saxons out and behind him to the other knights.

The frail white dragon was slowing as she felt her energy drain and she became distracted seeing her mistress in peril from the knights as they fought their way through the barbarians. She turned tail suddenly and shot down towards Arthur and the others spattering dragon fire upon them.

Red swooped down, faster than her white counterpart, hissing out a golden mist that ensnared the white dragon causing her to fall unconcious while she flew.

Morgana screamed in terror watching the dragonling fall from the sky. She hit the ground with a thud just out of sight and over the hill. The red dragon circled and then disappeared through the clouds.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Merlin took off down the hill, his heart shattered that Aithusa had fallen and The Red Dragon was nowhere in sight.

* * *

(*~*~*~*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening song lyrics are not mine – they are from a song called Morrigan by Omnia. It's an AWESOME song that really sets the stage for a battle and if my story was ever made into a movie (which unless I win the megamillions I doubt I could afford the rights to Merlin)- this would song would definitely be on the soundtrack.
> 
> *- when I wrote that line I was listening to "Get Ready For This" by 2 Unlimited (it's a jock jam made famous by the movie Space Jam and the NBA. So…. Yeah that's about the speed of the battle and the spells cast in my mind once it gets going LOL cheesy I know, but it was fun to listen to and take a break from my normal Merlin music mix. If I can figure out how to make the videos I am so using this song.
> 
> 1-spell: shield and return
> 
> 2-Dragon come and do my bidding (once again I cheated and just stuck with mostly old English instead of trying to figure out the Greek translations) I will go back and edit this in the future.


	20. Prophecies don't lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tries to find a way around the vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reposted with out edits

Merlin sped headlong down the rocks, instinctively thrusting back enemies as he ran towards the place he saw Aithusa fall. Morgana running in from the other direction, her eyes shot open and silently cast a spell at the old man her mind saw.  _This was his fault!_  She mentally cried.

In his distraction, he didn't notice the witch until he was flying through the air. Merlin's breath was knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ground. He felt something stabbing into his side, pushing himself up; he reached around to feel the source of the pain, his fingers coming back with blood from a Saxon spear tip he'd fallen on.

He winced and grabbed for the spear, using it as a staff to regain his footing. Looking around he spied Morgana rushing down the backside of the hill toward the fallen white dragon. He saw Arthur and the others, finally free of the Saxons creeping towards her.

Merlin limped, using the spear to support his weight as he made his way down the hill. He slipped on some loose rocks and nearly lost his footing. The clatter of stones caused Morgana to turn, glaring at him, her gray eyes seething with hatred. "You did this!" She began muttering a powerful spell. Morgana was so focused on her nemesis; she missed Gwaine coming up from the side.

He snatched up some of the debris and began pelting her with it calling, "Here, witchy, witchy!" She turned and blasted him backwards. Gwaine smiled as he fell back, happy he'd provided enough of a distraction.

The raven haired warlock stopped, he hoped he was close enough, he knew he couldn't waste any more time. Under his breath he began casting a powerful spell, "Ásælan hie drýcræft þíht swá geraoentteágian, Ásælan hit fram hie sáwol, erl héo áworpennes eac Orhlyte stán æt wirp."

Morgana screamed in pain as she felt the dark magic constrict and then separate from her. The old man hobbled up in front of her. She lay back on Aithusa's broken body, feeling it shuttering and twitching in moments close to death. With no magic, no men to call, no friends to speak of but the dying dragon child, she felt a wave of utter sadness and remorse, "Help me Emrys, please."

The old man stood above her, brandishing his staff, "Is this really what," Her vision shifted and the old man changed. No longer wearing red robes, instead he wore brown breeches and a thick blue shirt, with a new dark overcoat. Around his neck a red scarf. His hair and beard went from white and wild to dark black and neatly trimmed. In his hand was a spear coated with blood, "you wanted Morgana?"

"Merlin…" she managed to whisper, trembling.

She felt someone grab her wrist. She looked up at Percival as he stripped the bracelet off. He tossed it to Arthur, who stuck his sword in the ground and pulled the dagger free. Morgana attempted to break away, but the large man was too strong and held her fast.

She watched helpless as Merlin spoke a few words, holding his hand over the jewelry and saw his eyes glow with magic. Arthur then took a dagger, unlike any she had ever seen and plunged it down onto the bracelet. They were all blinded by the flash of light as the bracelet shattered. Morgana fell limp in Percival's arms, unconscious.

Arthur stood back, panting heavily. He smiled at his cousin victoriously, giving him a hearty pat on the back. He flipped the blade over in his hand, offering it to Merlin, "Not really my style, but it worked."

Merlin took the hilt and then looked behind Arthur as something caught his eye. A black shadowy form that took a shape similar to Morgause began to rise from the shards of the bracelet. "Arthur, look out!" He cried shoving the king aside as the shadow snatched at them. Merlin plunged the dagger into the heart of it, his magical attunement struck by a hissing scream of pain that roared through his mind. He felt the connection the darkness had on Morgana break completely as it burned and fell into a pile of ash.

A soft groan had them turning back to Morgana. She sat up shakily, pale green eyes darting around at the battle field, finally landing on her brother, "Arthur, what's going on?" Fear etched her voice. She looked at the other knights, "Sir Leon? Gwaine… and who are you?"

The giant eyed her wearily, "Percival."

They all seemed to pause, looking around hastily, "Where's Elyan?" Arthur asked. In all the chaos they somehow lost track of one of their own.

"I'll go find him!" Percival spoke up, removing himself from behind the raven haired woman. He was soon off scouting on top of the hill searching desperately for their friend.

Arthur picked up Excalibur, wearily brandishing it towards his sister, feeling vengeful at the possibility of losing another knight to his sister's madness.

Merlin put a hand on his elbow to steady the king, "What is the last thing you remember?" He asked quietly, kneeling in front of her.

Morgana's breath was unsteady, "Everyone was asleep, except me and you and Arthur. We were being attacked by Morgause and the knights…" she trailed off, unsure of everything going on.

"Tell me everything, Morgana, please."

She shot back trying to get away from them, "No, Uther will kill me, he'll kill Morgause!"

Arthur stood dumbstruck, his mouth agape. Merlin stood and motioned for his cousin to take his place. Finally he knelt beside her, taking her hand gently, "Uther is dead, and I am king now. Please Morgana, tell me."

Morgana swallowed heavily and nodded, "I had gone to Morgause to thank her for the bracelet. I woke up and everyone started falling asleep," She licked her lips, wondering how they had become so dry. Her hands moved to smooth out her dress, her brow furrowing as she felt the roughspun black tatters.  
"Then you and Merlin returned. OH god Merlin! He poisoned me, he tried to kill me! Why did he try to kill me, I was his friend!" She cried out.

Merlin slowly hobbled back, guilt etching his face. His crystal eyes moved from Morgana to the unmoving dragon form. He scanned the horizon for Red.

"After that… it's all like the dreams. I have flashes but nothing real."

_Emrys…_

Up on the plateau surrounded by bodies, stood Mordred, his gaze heavy upon Merlin, mentally calling to the warlock.

Casting one last glance at the frail shaking girl he once knew, the dragon he named and brought to life. Merlin quietly turned away from his friends, their attention focused on Morgana. Still using the spear, he limped up the hill. The warlock knew it had to end, and he couldn't let Arthur die because of mistakes that were not the kings. So many times, he should have listened to his heart, and not the destiny laid upon his shoulders. Now, he was going to do just that.

**(*~*~*~*)**

The battle was nearing its end down in the meadow. Saxon bodies lay around them, "Why are you doing this, Mordred?" Merlin yelled, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it for himself as a way to affirm his guilt in this all. "Why would you do this to Arthur?"

"I have nothing against Arthur; it is you I want to see dead. You and that witch who sacrificed my mother. You would have seen me dead in Camelot; you brought my aunt, the mad witch, and Uther's men down upon the camp, MY FAMILY! I watched them die because of you Emrys! I listened to the tales, you were supposed to save us, and instead you killed them. Then when I tried to come back to you, even more died! Their blood, and my mothers who I barely knew, is on your hands!" The rage in the young man was heartbreaking; his need for revenge against Merlin rivaled against no other.

Merlin stared at Mordred, as if his eyes were finally seeing the boy for the first time. "Yes it is, and I have to live with their deaths on my conscious every day. I'm sorry, Mordred, so sorry, I had no idea Morgause was your mother." Tears flowed from the Dragonlord's eyes as he looked at the young druid-knight. He stepped closer to Mordred.

The boy raised his sword, ready to run the warlock through.

Merlin held up his hands slowly, dropping the spear. He hoped he could to salvage something from this situation, but looking into Mordred's eyes, he knew it had to be this way. With his magic spent against Morgana and the seeping wound on his side, he was feeling weak. He knew he didn't have the energy, emotionally or physically, to fight the young druid. His guilt weighed heavily, adding to the exhaustion of carrying so many secrets for so long. The warlock nodded to himself, affirming his decision that perhaps the hatred and bloodshed could end here. "Swear to me, when it's done, you will leave Arthur, Morgana, and all of Camelot in peace."

Mordred's eyes widened at the request, "Is this some sort of trick?" He was completely taken back by the magnanimous nature of the warlock he so despised.

"No tricks, no spells. Swear to me, Mordred, please." Merlin begged as he knelt before the young man.

Mordred nodded, a bit unsure, "I swear it."

"Thank you," Merlin lowered his head, ready to receive a sentence he felt he deserved.

It took every ounce of will power to not rise and fight back. Time seemed to slow down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mordred, his eyes reflecting the fires left from the dragons and the battle surrounding them. Aithusa's body lay broken against the rocks, Morgana feared him. Will, Lancelot, Balinor and so many others had sacrificed themselves for him along the way.

Merlin blamed himself for so many innocent dead, for Morgana's insanity – there was no denying, he had done his part. So much of this could have been prevented; perhaps Leon was right in his assessment of magic. Perhaps if he had leveled with Arthur sooner… his mind was filled with what ifs.

Across the field he spied a ghost walking towards him.  _Freya, I'll be with you soon, my love._

One tear.

He closed his eyes as he saw Mordred's sword raised, preparing for the final blow, time slowed, his mind filtered out the cries of men dying around him on the hill next to the keep, his father's keep.

Heartbeat.

The same hill where Merlin's grandfather had fought and won the crown of Camelot, it seemed somehow poetic to meet his end here so that Arthur would have his chance.

Breath.

Despite all the wrongs, the ancient soul within the young man made peace with himself. He nodded his acceptance of his fate he could sense Mordred preparing to strike. "Make it quick," Merlin whispered, he felt time normalize as the sword came down.

Silence.

A force slammed into Merlin, throwing him to the ground face first, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Merlin blinked and scraped the mud from his eyes, his mind unable to comprehend what happened. As he looked back up at Mordred, the light blue eyes showing complete shock and then regret before fading into cold unblinking death. Out of his midsection protruded a familiar shinning silver blade, etched with dragon gold runes that quickly filled with the red life force of the druid boy. Mordred's own sword fell to the ground next to him, coated in blood.

Arthur panted heavily, his hands still holding Excalibur, even as the weight of Mordred's body became heavy upon it. Astonishment turned to fear and then into adrenaline as Merlin's mind caught up to the scene before him. His best friend's armor, sliced through and hanging, skin carved in a long gash across his midsection, exposing the muscles and organs underneath.

"NO!" Someone screamed. It took Merlin less than a moment to realize it was his voice.

(*~*~*~*)

 


	21. Legends are born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from: Le Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory "Comfort thyself, said the king, and do as well as thou mayst, for in me is no trust for to trust in; for I will into the vale of Avilion to heal me of my grievous wound: and if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah same as before, I'll get to it when I can LOL

_(*~*~*~*)_

_…minutes earlier…_

"After that… it's all like the dreams. I have flashes but nothing real."

"It's alright Morgana, we'll figure it out." Arthur assured his sister; he bit his tongue, wondering if she even realized they were related.

A soft moaning sound startled them all, Morgana spun around to look behind her, "Aithusa!" She whispered hoarsely, the bond between them rekindling the moment their eyes met. Morgana could tell the young dragon was in severe pain, "You… you were with me. In my dreams, what happened? I don't know how to help you, darling." Morgana began stroking the dragonlings head. "It wasn't all dreams was it, Arthur?"

"No, Morgana," The King sighed, "It wasn't."

"I can heal her." A deep feminine voice spoke. They all looked up to see a woman in dark crimson, her hair trailing the ground, red as the dress she wore. Even her eyes glowed with a soft inner fire. Her features were chiseled and ageless. Aithusa seemed to brighten at her appearance. "I will take you home soon child, for now, sleep." The red woman's fingers seemed abnormally long and slender as she placed her hand on the dragon. Aithusa's head fell into Morgana's lap, no longer in pain, but still alive.

The king shook his head; this was by far one of the strangest days he'd ever experienced. He looked up when he noticed Gwaine giving a bow to another approaching figure. "Lady Vivienne." The king acknowledged, but the lady wasn't looking at him.

"Morgana?" The priestess asked softly, unsure of her own voice.

Morgana gasped, tears streaming down her face, "Mother?" They embraced each other in a crushing hug. "Am I dead?"

"No, darling, no, you are alive," Vivienne continued to whisper quiet nonsense to her daughter.

"Well, this is going to be an interesting story to try and explain. Merlin, you've…" Gwaine paused and squinted, looking around for the missing warlock. "Where is he?"

"What is that idiot doing?" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, darting off up the hill before anyone else realized what was happening. Leon and Gwaine hot on his tail as they noticed their friend kneeling up on the hill Mordred standing above him holding a sword. The king was running too fast, fueled by adrenaline and the only thought that he had to stop his best friend from acting like a martyr.

Mordred sword came down, at the same moment Arthur shoved his cousin out of the way, taking the blow hard across his mid-section. Excalibur plunged through the former knight, killing him almost instantly.

"NO!" Merlin was screaming as the others crested the hill. Gwaine and Leon stopped in shock at the sight before them. The dark haired man was scrambling to Arthur as the king fell. "No, Arthur, you stupid prat, this wasn't supposed to happen like this." Merlin placed his hand on Arthur's midsection, attempting to cast healing spells.

"Consider this payback," Arthur coughed out hoarsely, "For all the times you saved me." And then he laid still, his breath shallow as his life drained out staining the ground.

Leon felt sick; he had seen men die before, but not his king, not in this way. The boy he mentored and cared for lay dead nearby, Arthur's sword still sticking out of him. "Do something, Merlin!"

"I'm trying," the warlock spat back, every ounce of energy that remained in him, he desperately tried to pour into Arthur's body. Tears were pouring out of his eyes, and his breath coming in ragged sobs.

Gwaine sullenly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, at a complete loss for words. He felt a touch on his arm and turned to see a petite young brunette. Her eyes like a doe. She smiled softly and bent down beside Merlin. She touched his face, turning it towards her. Their eyes met briefly and he kissed her fingers gently.

"Help him, please." He whispered to the ghost before him and then followed her eyes as she looked down the hill. Three women were walking towards them, the red lady leading the way trailed by Morgana and her mother. Merlin blinked then nodded his head, knowing that they were only hope Arthur had.

"Sir Gwaine," The crimson woman spoke authoritatively, the power in her voice leaving no room for questions, "Please go back down and guard the young dragon. I will see to her as soon as I am able."

The rogue prince looked down at Merlin, who nodded. "Gwaine, make sure no one does anything to her, you know how much she means to me."

"I will protect her with my life, my friend." He gave a last glance at the fallen king and moved back down towards the dragon.

"Sir Leon, get Arthur's sword," Merlin told the other knight.

Morgana was trembling and uneasy, Leon's eyes followed her suspiciously as he grudgingly extracted Arthur's blade, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "What do I need to do?" She asked her mother, weeping as her hands rested gently on Arthur's shoulder.

"We must take him to the Sacred Grove. The spring that feeds the scrying bowl is linked to Avalon, only there can we find the power we need to try and stave off death."

The Saxon's had been thoroughly defeated. Those still alive were captured or had fled into the surrounding mountainous terrain. Everyone stopped as a procession walked by, carrying between them on a stretcher made of spears, the all but lifeless body of the King of Camelot. Following after was one of his most loyal knights, Sir Leon carrying the sword Excalibur and the king's raven haired shadow. Bards would turn the women into queens as the tale was passed down through history and the stretcher would become a barge on the shores of Avalon, as they made their way to the forest grove, towards the lake below the hill fort.

They passed by Percival, still unable to find any sign of Sir Elyan. He stiffened seeing the king, shock plaguing his face. Leon spoke to him briefly, about the situation, and left the giant knight in charge of the remaining knights as the battlefield recovered from its gory day.

(*~*~*~*)

(*~*~*~*)

It was a miracle; Leon thought to himself as the women laid their makeshift stretcher down in the grove, his king still clung to the threads of life. He watched silently as they set to work, using water from the basin at the circle center to wash the Arthur's wound.

"Can you heal him?" Merlin inquired his voice a hoarse whisper as he looked at the women.

"His wound is grave, it would appear some type of magically enhanced poison coated the blade that did this," The red woman answered.

"What about  _your_  true magic?" He asked, his eyes narrowing at the dragon in human form. He put a hint of command into his voice.

"My magic only works on my kin," She rolled her eyes and leveled her gaze on him. She clucked her tongue impatiently, "You really were never taught these things?"

Merlin chewed his bottom lip and shook his head, looking ashamed. "Kilgharrah once gave me a great healing spell…"

"Was it for poison, or a curse?" Red asked sharply. "Did he specifically say it was to heal her?"

"No, it was…"He took a deep breath, looking towards his nemesis of many years, "to save Morgana, when she fell." Merlin closed his eyes, cursing himself for another in the line of mistakes, "He said the darkness that followed would be my own doing."

Morgana's eyes shot up, a soft gasp escaping her. Their eyes met briefly before Merlin looked away. The memory came back to her, helped by the power of the sacred place. Uther was speaking to Gaius, telling the old physician that she was his daughter. Commanding the old man to use whatever means, including sorcery to save her. She looked at Vivienne as the elder woman worked at sewing Arthur's wound, unaware of what was revealed.

"There isn't much more we can do for him," She said as she placed a poultice on the wound. The older priestess looked up at her daughter, "What is it, child?"

"Is…was Uther really my father?"

Vivienne nodded, her voice heavy with guilt, "He was, although I did not know it until after you were born."

"How could you not know?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"He used magic to hide who he was." Merlin answered. He could only imagine the pain Morgana must have been feeling hearing it.

Morgana covered her mouth with her hand, suddenly feeling very ill. She glanced around at the few people in the Grove, her eyes unfocused. She then ran out into the forest.

Merlin watched her go, feeling torn. He felt a slender hand join with his and looked down into dark brown eyes filled with love, "Go to her, my love. It was the memory of our brief affair, and your love for Arthur that helped the priestess call me from Avalon to aid the king. Once his fate is decided I will be gone, and she will still be here, in need of a friend. It is time to let me go."

The warlock opened his mouth to argue but no sound would come out. It had been over eight years since Freya was lost to him in all but memory and brief glimpses. He licked his lips, her words filtering through his tired mind. He sighed and looked down into her kind face, "You will always hold a place in my heart." He brought her fingers to his lips in a chaste and gentle kiss. "Thank you."

Holding his side, he hobbled his way out of the circle into the forest after Morgana. He soon found her beside a small stream in a crumpled heap, softly sobbing. "Morgana," Merlin said softly, stifling a groan as he sat down next to her. He didn't want to ask if she was alright, fearing the past years of torture on her mind would leave the question unanswerable.

"Just leave me alone," She finally managed between sobs.

"No."

"Haven't you done enough damage?" She spat out.

Merlin sat there for a few minutes, letting his fingers play in the water of the stream until she thought he wasn't going to answer. "Naw," he said finally, "I figure I still have plenty more years to screw everything up even further."

Morgana looked up, shocked at his answer, his tone of voice leaving her uncertain as to whether he was joking. "Merlin, I'm sorry I didn't mean…"

"I know." He responded quietly. "I actually think between the two of us, we've done enough damage for a hundred lifetimes. The kicker for me is, you really can't be blamed for it. I know you've probably got a load of questions, so… I'll do my best to answer what I can."

She sat up, her eyes serious, "Alright, first question. When in the hell did you finally get old enough to grow facial hair?"

"Uh…" Merlin blinked and grinned. He chuckled softly and reached up to stroke the beard as he thought. It was simply the inconvenience of shaving at first. Then he noticed how it helped keep his face warmer while he and Gwaine spent their nights on the open road. Since he saw himself, nicely groomed in the reflector, he actually enjoyed the look of it as well. "Not exactly what I was expecting you to ask."

She gave him a half-smile before sitting up straighter and taking a deep breath, "Ok, so something more serious. Why did you poison me?"

The warlock nodded, realizing it was probably the best place for her to start. "I… I found out that Morgause was using you as an anchor for her spell. I did what I thought was best for all of Camelot. I hoped she could save you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he mulled the answer over in his mind. "Trust."

"You didn't trust me?" She looked at him, hurt in her eyes, her words more of a statement than a question.

"The burden of my destiny has been so heavy, I didn't trust in myself. I wasn't sure if you had willingly submitted to your sister's plan, until you looked at me, after you drank the water." He paused, "Even if I had told you, would you have drank it to save everyone?"

Morgana wanted to answer that yes, she would have, but the words stuck in her throat. Her hatred at was towards Uther and his persecution of all things magical, not Arthur- who had tried to stand up to his father, certainly not towards the people of Camelot. If Morgause told her the plan, she knew at that time, she would have refused to go along with something so drastic. So the question came down to whether Morgana would have sacrificed herself. "I don't think I would have been brave enough, even if I had known. You did the right thing." She stated begrudgingly.

Merlin released the breath he'd been holding, waiting for her answer, "I'm sorry, Morgana. I wish I could have found another way. I have nightmares of that day, I…"

She stopped him, "I forgive you." Morgana placed her hand on Merlin's. She made sure he was looking into her eyes, "I forgive you."

The warlock smiled, a great weight lifted off his heart. He gently squeezed her hand, "You're cold." He suddenly realized, feeling a chill in her hand. Merlin moved to take off his jacket and winced in pain as the wound broke open again.

"Are you hurt?" Morgana asked concern in her voice.

He shoved the rest of the way out of the coat, biting back the discomfort. "It's a bit dirty, but… here," he said as he placed it on her shoulders pointedly ignoring her question.

"Merlin, let me see your side," She demanded, reaching for his shirt. He jerked away, old habits of hiding his distress still ingrained in his very being, the movement causing him more pain. Morgana snickered and grabbed the cloth, pulling it up. Her breath hitched, "Did I…?" She asked.

"No, I'm still clumsy. I should have been more careful to not fall on a spear of an already dead Saxon," he stated somberly but with a twinkle in his crystal blue eyes.

Morgana pursed her lips, shooting a glare at Merlin. She pressed around the wound, feeling him flinch. "Give me your neckerchief."

"What? No."

"Oh please, you finally hit puberty," she responded sarcastically. Her voice then dropped into a deeply patronizing tone, "It's time to put away the safety blankey. Now give it here!"

His jaw hit the ground, "You are a piece of work! You know that? Fine, here, take it." He relented and laughed through the pain as he took it off. Happiness filling him as he observed her, once again, the compassionate, albeit bossy, soul she had been years before.

He watched as Morgana took the cloth and dipped in the stream, he hissed as the wet cold touched his skin. "If you really want to help, you could just use magic to heal it."

She stopped and looked at him inquisitively, "I thought my magic was from Morgause and besides that, I don't recall any of the words."

"Her power was only overshadowing yours while she had control, but you are strong in your own right," he explained. "Repeat after me- Ic hæle þina þrowunga."

Morgana spoke the words, rolling them around on her tongue.

"Now, place your hand over the wound and let the power come to you, naturally, saying the words again."

She did as he instructed, not really expecting anything to happen. She squealed in delight as soft golden glow came from her hand and surrounded his torn flesh.

He felt her magic seep into his skin, warming the wound and feeding off the power of the spell. He couldn't stop the soft hum that escaped his throat. Morgana pulled back her hand to glance at him suspiciously. "Wow, I didn't realize I could do that."

"You can do so much more than that, Morgana." He stated with his eyes closed a small smile playing on his lips.

"How do you know…" Morgana began to ask, then closed her eyes and shook her head, looking away sadly as she pulled her hand back. "You have magic too."

"Yes, I do." He left it at that. Merlin could see so clearly the thoughts that were playing out in her mind. They sat in silence for a while longer. Merlin waited to see if she wanted to speak any more about it. Finally, feeling his strength and magic coming back to him, he decided he needed to do something. He reached once again for her hand. Gripping when she tried to pull away, "Can I show you something?"

She turned, angry at the entire situation, but also curious. Merlin whispered quietly, his eyes glowed, and he allowed her to see the wonder of the forest surrounding them. Her mind didn't adjust right away to the difference in time, but once it did, she gasped in amazement.

"I love being able to see the world this way."

The leaves of the trees around them slowed, caressing the breeze instead of being tossed about by it. Fae spirits glimmered like unearthly fireflies all around, darting in and out of ferns and from behind rocks. Even the water in the stream was different. Each drop visible dancing over the moss covered rocks. "Why did you never show me this before?"

Merlin realized she was crying, "I didn't know how to. So many times, I wanted to tell you that you weren't alone. Each time I tried to tell you, or show you, it ended in disaster. Like with the druids. After a while I finally gave up. Then I tried to prevent you from going to Morgause and you fell down the stairs. I overheard Uther and Giaus speaking. Uther told him to do whatever it took, even sorcery, to heal you. I thought finally, that you would be able to change his mind about things. I didn't know that…"

"That I wasn't really there?"

Merlin nodded. "So much has happened in these past years."

"I wish I could remember it." Morgana whispered. "I get the feeling that I will never be able to set foot in Camelot again, will I?"

The warlock shrugged, not knowing how to answer her. The mention of Camelot put his mind to wondering how Arthur was fairing. "Come," he said simply, as he stood, the magic faded away. He offered his arm to help her stand, "We should be getting back."

(*~*~*~*)

"Is there nothing more that can be done to save him?" Leon asked quietly after Merlin departed. Arthur lay on the ground, a woolen blanket covering his body. His armor and sword set off to the side.

Vivienne responded while she worked at cleaning the more superficial wounds on the king, "Nothing except to pray that the Goddess will heal him."

The crimson lady rolled her eyes at the priestess, obviously agitated by some wandering thought, "There is one other thing." She replied, clicking her tongue against her teeth, "Much of a dragon's healing magic can only be used on our kin, a curse however, is a different thing. Which, is what I suspect my  _brethren_  actually gave to the young dragonlord years past," Her tone left no room for debate about her feelings for Kilgharrah.

"What kind of curse?" The knight commander prompted.

She hummed and hawed to herself for a bit, until Leon thought she hadn't heard his question. Just as he was about to prompt her for an answer she spoke up. "Perhaps a sleeping curse, one to leave him frozen in time until a cure for the poison can be found. But time is a fickle thing; you never know when it might end."

Leon nodded, seeing where her train of thought might be headed. Although with this woman, he couldn't be sure. "Merlin and Gaius will find a cure, if given enough time, I am certain."

"We should do it then," Vivienne voiced, "He might not have much time, if we do not act quickly, Arthur may not have the strength."

"Very well," Red shrugged, accepting the human's decision. She began drawing a circle around the king's body and instructing Vivienne and Freya in what was to be done.

"Wait." Leon stepped forward, holding up his hand.

The three women looked to him for an explanation.

"I'm not keen on magic, however could someone… " He looked at them, his eyes begging for an answer, "could I, trade places with him? Take the poison into myself, have this curse put on me, and let him live?" He knew what he was asking was a longshot, and he expected the answer to be 'no', but it was something he had to try.

"In theory, yes," Vivienne responded uneasily.

His eyes widened in surprise, relief coursing through him, "Then tell me what I need to do."

"It's not that simple sir knight…The poison would stain you both, and he would be living off your life's energy. It… it is very risky." The doe eyed maiden finally spoke up. She had come as a link to the holy island, drawing the magic from the old religion and the Goddess. "If one of you were to perish, you both would suffer and fall. Likewise, there is no guarantee on how long the curse would hold."

"Who does the realm, the kingdom, the people need more? If there's a way, let me take his place."

The red woman watched the exchange curiously. In all her millennia of life, never before had she encountered so many willing to give up everything for one man, king or not.

"Sir Leon, you might die…" Vivienne interjected.

"But Arthur would live, what is more important than that?" He shouted at her vehemently.

The red woman came up before him, eyeing him with appreciation "You would willingly trade places with your king, knowing that there might not be a recovery, or that both of you could die if he is not strong enough to withstand the spell?"

Leon nodded. He never felt surer of anything in his life, and if he had even a slim chance to save the king he loved so well, he was willing to make the sacrifice. "I will, gladly, this day and every other."

"Then we shouldn't waste any more time then, least he grow weaker."

 


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final piece of this part of the series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "This is the oath of a Knight of King Arther's Round Table and should be for all of us to take to heart. I will develop my life for the greater good. I will place character above riches, and concern for others above personal wealth, I will never boast, but cherish humility instead, I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend those who cannot defend themselves, I will honor and respect women, and refute sexism in all its guises, I will uphold justice by being fair to all, I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship, I will abhor scandals and gossip-neither partake nor delight in them, I will be generous to the poor and to those who need help, I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy and honor from this day forward."
> 
> ― King Arthur, Le Morte d'Arthur: King Arthur and the Legends of the Round Table by Sir Thomas Malory

"Well, I guess this is one way to get Leon back on a ship," Arthur shrugged as he watched the sailors reverently loading the bodies of the fallen back onto Queen Annis's ships. They went through great pains to make sure Sir Leon was taken care of with special attention. For all that the knight seemed lifeless those closest to him knew otherwise. He was handled with reverence as would have befitted a king.

"It was probably the only way it was going to happen." Percival agreed, he half-turned toward Merlin and Gwaine. "He didn't fare so well on the voyage up."

Through all of the joking, there was an air of sadness among all the soldiers and knights. Out of the nearly two score of Camelot forces that came with them, just over half were returning home. Among the fallen was Sir Elyan, the Queen's brother. Found with his sword still in his hand and a look of pride that only came since he had been named a knight of Camelot.

It had been three days since the battle. Lothian men continued to press the fleeing Saxon back to the east with plans to join the main host led by Prince Gaheris. Before King Lot departed they discussed meeting in the near future to discuss an actual alliance between the two kingdoms.

Arthur still looked pale and weary, but the color and life was beginning to come back. He was ready to head home to Camelot and recover, "You know, Merlin, you are welcome back in Camelot."

"I know, but I think this where our destinies start widening into something bigger than me protecting your royal arse behind the scenes. I can't fight the politicians for you and my presence there would only make things worse. Just get Leon back to Camelot. You have those scrolls I gave you?"

Arthur nodded, "I think so, but usually I have this idiot of manservant to keep track of this."

"Hmm, wonder what happened to him," Merlin mused.

"The dollap-head decided to up and quit on me. I think I must have given him too much time off. If you don't keep them busy with menial tasks, such as mucking stables, it gives them too much time to think. This one got it in his head to become a lord, or some such nonsense." The two men shared a chuckle before embracing.

"Your Grace," called one of the sailors, "The ship is ready to sail once you are onboard."

"I will find a way to free him from the curse and heal you both, you know that, right?"

The blond king smiled fondly at his cousin, "I know. Just don't take too much time with it." Arthur looked up past the beach to the grassy sand dunes that overlooked the bay. Standing there were two women, arm in arm, mother and daughter. Morgana wore a clean linen dress, her hair no longer the unkempt rats nest, instead was shining and wore in a simple plait that hung over her shoulder. It warmed the King's heart to know that she was once again the girl he had grown up with. "Take good care of her."

"I will Arthur, be safe on your journey home."

Gwaine came up along side them, "Give your Queen my love." He winked teasingly at the king.

"You're not joining us?" Arthur asked, curiously. Gwaine had his gear packed, ready to move out, so it took the king by surprise that it would not be with him.

The rogue prince flipped his hair out of his face, "Naw, not yet. With your permission, I'd like to go catch up to Lot. Maybe get to know my family a bit more."

"Of course. Perhaps you could work as an emissary between our two lands."

Merlin snickered behind his hand and tried to disguise a cough, "Ambassador Gwaine."

He shoved Merlin's shoulder, "Oy! First you trick me to becoming a knight, now you want me to actually be a noble?" He rolled his eyes indignantly, "Bloody hell, the things I do for you!"

Even Percival couldn't suppress a chuckle at his friend's discomfort. The four men bid each other farewell with promises to meet again soon. The large knight and his king headed to the waiting vessel. Gwaine picked up his pack, starting his trek inland back to where the horses were waiting.

Merlin made his way up the dune to the two priestesses. Vivienne departed with a nod, slipping back into the forest toward the Grove she tended. Morgana reached for Merlin's hand, entwining her slender fingers through his calloused ones. They had a long way to go, but for once in the warlock's life, things finally seemed to be moving in the right direction.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Arthur and the knights rode back into Camelot. Gwen stood on the steps. She saw Arthur ride in and couldn't stop herself as he dismounted from running to him and throwing her arms around her husband. She kissed him deeply, ignoring the grime of the road. He broke the kiss and just held her tightly. Whispering compliments of her beauty and how much he had missed her into the thick dark curls. She pulled back smiling, but the smile faded as Gwen looked into his eyes. A deep sadness creased his forehead. "Arthur, what's wrong?" She looked at the rest of the knights in the yard as they each greeted their loved ones. She noticed more than a few missing.

She felt her breath go out of her, not one of Arthur's elite knights were there. "Did you not find Merlin and Gwaine?"

"We found them, they are fine. I sent Percival on an errand for me as soon as we reached Caerleon." His hazel blue eyes were filled with sadness.

Wagons rolled into the courtyard and Arthur cringed as heard a piercing wail from the wife of one of his knights. Soon all around realized that not everyone had returned from the battlefront.

"Where is Sir Leon?" Gwen asked softly, not yet daring to ask about her brother.

Arthur shook his head sadly, "He may still yet be saved, but Guinevere… "

"What about Mordred?" She interrupted, not wishing for him to say the words she feared.

His face hardened at the thought of the boy. He quickly shook it away, "Elyan… I am so sorry my love."

Gwen released her husband, "No, no, no…" She repeated over and over as she walked slowly to the carts, people moved out of her way and she didn't notice. Reaching one of the wagons, the knight guarding it looked at the king who followed his wife. Arthur nodded and the man pulled back a blanket revealing the face of her brother, peaceful in his deathly slumber. Gwen screamed in denial, her knees went weak. Arthur caught her and held her tightly as she cried against him.

(*~*~*~*)

The following day funeral pyres were built for the knights who lost their lives on the peninsula. Arthur proclaimed a week of mourning. They were told that Sir Percival would be returning soon, and that Sir Gwaine, accompanied by Merlin, were finishing up their business in the north. Neither Arthur, nor any of the other returning Knights spoke a word about Sir Mordred. When questioned, they would silently shake their heads and change the topic. The betrayal of one of their own, heavy in their hearts.

(*~*~*~*)

_One week later…_

Arthur sat in the throne at the head of the council table, Gwen sat to his left. He'd tried to tell convince her to take more time to mourn her brother, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was she who had been left in charge of the Kingdom while he was gone, and the brunette wasn't about to let her husband just ride in and take over. In the time he had been away, she felt she had made great progress in the garnering support from the nobles and bringing them around to new ideas.

"What if we don't agree with your new ideas, Your Grace?" Lord Edmund, a portly man with a balding head whom Arthur remembered as one of his father's bootlickers.

"Then you are free to move on to a kingdom that feels as you do. Perhaps Caerleon… no they embrace the druidic ways. Lothian, and what remains of Essitir? Wait… they also allow magic. Odin's kingdom? But he has no issues with using magic, and from what I hear, has a bit of training himself." Arthur chewed his bottom lip in concentration, "Mercia! I can honestly say I don't exactly know what King Bayard's thoughts are on the subject." His eyes moved around the room landing on each individual of the council challenging each of them his patience growing short. Only two refused to meet his stare, including Lord Edmund, who chose to roll his eyes.

"But what about Morgana, Sire?"

"Morgana has been dealt with. She now sees the error of her ways and will bother Camelot no more." He pulled out a rolled parchment and held it up. "Here is her agreement. Sealed with the mark of Gorlois." He passed it to Geoffrey to verify that it was indeed as he said.

With a motion from the King, Geoffrey broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. He read it out loud to the gathering, "I Morgana, born of the House of Gorlois, Lady of Cornwall, do renounce any claim previously made upon the Kingdom of Camelot and the royal house of Pendragon. I accept the benevolent judgment of His Majesty, Arthur Pendragon, Rightful and True King of Camelot, and will remain in exile for the rest of my days.

"It is with the utmost sorrow that I realize what my actions have cost to the people of Camelot, and I understand nothing I can do will ever compensate for the hardship I brought among you all.

"I ask not for forgiveness, as it is something I do not deserve, but please know I was not acting fully of my own volition, although I am certain that will hold no sway in your hearts, as I would feel the same.

"I ask only that I be allowed to live in my chosen place of exile, far from you all, in peace.

"Signed, Morgana, second daughter of Gorlois, Lady of Cornwall."

The council was silent.

Arthur gave them all a few moments to digest the letter of intent. "I can assure you, there are measures in place to ensure that she will never set foot in Camelot again, some magical."

"Sire, you trust this 'magical' method of keeping her from attempting to ruin us again?"

Arthur knew that it was one of Edmund's sons among those lost in the north, so he tried his best to be patient with the man. "I do."

A knock at the doors had them all looking up. Percival entered, he smiled and nodded at Arthur then stepped to the side. Cautiously, two cloaked men entered behind him. Arthur stood and made his way towards them. The taller of the men pulled back his hood, gray untamed hair fell around his face.

"Iseldir," Arthur greeted the Druid Chieftain, holding out his arm, "Thank you greatly for coming."

"I am honored to accept your request King Arthur." He responded politely.

The King turned to the other man as he revealed himself, his head shaved bald covered with tattoos, "You must be Alator, welcome to Camelot. I think we all would appreciate your input on what can be done as we look to the future, for all of our peoples."

"I am gracious to you, King Arthur, may I ask where…" His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to find the right words, not knowing how much information the king was privy too.

Luckily, Arthur was quick to catch on and spoke softly to the men, "He is away at the moment, we will discuss it more later, in private. For now, I ask, please continue to keep his confidence." The two men nodded their understanding. Arthur turned back to the council and introduced the men, inviting them to join the discussions at the table. A new era, the golden age of Camelot was being born.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this story. I swear I will get to the editing needed at some point. I'm currently working on more of the series on Fanfiction.net pen name Moon Fox. The current book is Cauldron of Dyrnwch, which is looking to be the longest in the series. However when I get around to moving it over to this site it might be broken down into a few shorter stories.
> 
> Some of the sequels are up here on AO3 now. Next in the series is Knave of Hearts - which is a bit more romance style. Followed by Pawns of Prophecy. There is even more forthcoming after that once I get some kinks worked out, however I am almost caught up posting the story here to where it is currently at on fanfiction.net 
> 
> Please leave kudo's or comments I appreciate either one! And don't hesitate to let me know if you see any errors in either grammar/spelling or the historical accuracy. (although please keep in mind this is fiction hehe)
> 
> THANKS AGAIN! *air kisses* See you at the next story!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me kudos and a comment if you enjoyed this story!


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